King of the Seditious
Costs

RADIX MALORUM

The demon was pacing his cavernous chamber. Gray robes hissing over the ground. His angst apparent to anyone that entered his den today. He had no patience to spare anyone.

He looked up at the yellow skinned ogre standing in his doorway. Pointed ears and pointed teeth made him distinctly unappealing to look at. “Get me Chavias!”

The warlord, Radix’s favorite prisoner, had mentored the boy. And Radix wanted him back.

Want to rip him apart for his defiance.

His traitorous nature.

Radix had inspired many a human to turn on their own kind to do as he bid.

But never, never, had a little human turned their back on him and walked away as easily as that one had.

An adept killer, no doubt.

He should be killing for me. Not killing my armies.

“You sures you see him, Master?” Okine asked in his broken way. He’d long since turned from being human and his original language had become somewhat lost over time.

I don’t need him to talk. Just to do what I say. And Okine was an apt commander. Cold and ruthless.

A perfect weapon to aim.

But now he was asking dumb questions.

“I do hate him. I hate all of his kind! The forever knights steal everything from me. They all will die by my hand eventually.”

“They been enemy forever.”

Radix could agree with that. “Yes, but now this boy is my enemy.”

“The savage boy?”

“Yes.” Okine said. “Bring me, Chavias! He’s bound to know something.”

Chavias, the black haired, warlord was brought in with the shackle around his neck being held in a two-pronged fork that Okine wielded. Shoving him forward into Radix’s personal chambers.

“Chavias...” Radix hissed in welcome.

The warlord was sweating from some wound that was healing.

There’s always one somewhere on him.

Between doing the deeds that Radix sent him on and Okine’s frequent torture sessions to keep him weak, he was injured more often than not.

And Radix didn’t like it when he wasn’t. Because Chavias’ usual defiant nature would flare, and he would become difficult.

Again.

“What do you want?” Chavias asked acidly.

Hating me nearly as much as I hate him. Looking at him, it wasn’t hard for Radix to discern why the feral little boy had chosen Chavias as his mentor.

Chavias was strong. Ripped with thick muscles which had only gotten bigger for the hard labor he was forced to do down in the caves and the frequent swordplay he was ordered to engage in.

His face was a chiseled block and Radix could imagine that at one time, women had flocked to him. But now there were several dull scars marking it. And a thick dusting of black facial hair.

He looked weak.

And tired.

“Tell me where the boy is.” Radix walked over to stroke a gnarled finger with a pointed nail down the side of Chavias’ face.

“I don’t know.” But that glint had brightened his eyes again.

“You’re trying to be courageous but you’re only being annoying.” Radix dragged the nail down enough that it began to break skin on Chavias’ face. Down his neck and over his chest.

But Chavias was unmoved.

This isn’t the torture though... Radix’s face brightened with glee.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

“You always know where he is.”

“Not since he’s gone.”

“I don’t believe he’s not made some form of contact with you.”

“He hasn’t.”

Radix, pulled a long, rusted blade from a sheath at his back and plunged it into Chavias’ side. Immediately following it with a clawed hand. He filled Chavias with evil like a bleak injection.

Chavias began shuddering. Convulsing as burned black blotches suffused his skin. Making him look as though he’d caught the plague. His eyes reddened like glinting rubies centered in the black of his irises. His breathing became ragged, and his hands fisted around the iron shackle binding his neck. He strained his neck and roared like an animal in pain.

Both the human and the beast inside him fighting to escape the smokey evil twining through him. Filling every vein and darkening every organ until all Chavias could taste was rot. Every inhalation through his nostrils smelled of stagnant death.

The feeling of being evil. Of watching your body rot from the inside.

“I don’t know where he is.” Chavias roared again. Tossing his head to fight the binding and trying to rotate to turn on Okine. Wanting to escape this worst form of torture.

“He tell truth.” Okine said. “He no lie when Master do.”

Radix knew he was right. It was the quickest torture to find out whatever Chavias knew. He’ll tell me anything to make it stop.

‘But I am for you?’ She’d asked.

As if she needed to ask. Savage thought.

You could be.

“Murah.” He sighed. Somewhat resigned. “Are you going to be like this all eve?”

Impossible. Difficult. Annoying.

“What will you do?” She arched a pretty red brow. “Cut off my hand?”

And it begins…

Quite possibly if you don’t stop with that waspish tongue.

“Still stuck on that, are we?” He lifted a condescending brow.

“Apparently someone should be, since it’s no longer stuck on anything else!”

Vaguely amusing. His lips twitched. And a traitorous dimple appeared on his jaw.

She gasped. “Don’t you dare!”

Her blue eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t you dare laugh at that, of all things!”

But it’s funny.

He cleared his throat. “You’re being foolish.”

“Oh, am I? You’re choke-full of compliments tonight, aren’t you?”

Usually. He thought dryly.

“I would be if I got you alone.” His voice lowered as he shifted to face her fully. Weight propped on crossed forearms.

“Precisely why you won’t.” She leaned nose-to-nose with him.

“Won’t I?” Catching the back of her head he pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

She lunged backward glowering at him.

He gasped in mock feminine outrage. Grinning unabashedly.

“Oh, funny is it?” She shook a fist. Flushing darkly.

It is indeed. Because you’re only like this around them.

I guess the both of us have two faces.

“How long are you going to be mad at me?” He queried tonelessly.

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