by Kell Inkston
“Oa, the first of the necromancers and the son of Ohkiij, is dead.”
And for the first time in a hundred years, the cheering of his minions overpowers his voice.
The death of the two heroes is so deeply, fully, overwhelmingly overshadowed by their accomplishment, that the low spirits of the minions dreading such an abrupt burial, have been flung high into the air in a euphoric fever pitch of joy. Voices sing out, cheers ring through the field, and a chill runs deep down Aoline’s spine as she finally feels as though some closure is offered to their senseless deaths. It doesn’t matter how bad it was, because they died with honor doing a truly great deed.
The cheers head on for a full minute, and then lull off at the sight of Chaos taking on the look of one who desires to speak.
“Dear minions of mine, that said—do not be in woe. Shed a tear for our rare loss, but remember they would not want us to dwell on their absence. We will meet again, I know for certain, and on that day we can thank them for their daring sacrifice… thank you. Now if anyone has anything to say about this fantastic lady and wonderful lad, please speak up from where you are and tell us of your memories. Let us remember them fondly as we sally up to strike new enemies.”
It’s a confusing procession, Aoline thinks; some of the minions are obviously sad for their friends' passing, but still overwhelmed with the achievement of Oa’s death— an act that all The Omniverse will hear of in but a week’s time. Some kind words are spoken and some memories recalled, but the moment is largely ruined as when it comes to remembering people, Chaos and his minions are not by any measure the best at it; it is one of the less-considered drawbacks to having memory problems.
She sheds a tear for them both at least, and for Meeo, and for herself— and especially for Chaos, who she now realizes, however he may deny it, is only human deep inside that light-eating shell he is jointly deified and imprisoned by. Aoline thinks she understands it all a bit better now; from all the knights to the overlords to Oa among all, humans were not meant to live this long— at least, in body.
As the speakers exchange a few insensitive quips and jokes about Dark Arts and Ranger both being heroes and how that’s all they’re really going to be remembered for from now on, Aoline draws into herself. She looks over to Chaos who is smiling all the same. Only a day ago she saw the smile to be strong, and only strong— such power to overcome the burdens of his life that it rivals everyone else in the realms; now, however, she sees it as sad. She realizes that Chaos, as mighty and as loved by his subjects as he may be, bears a weight that he cannot help to bear; she sees that the only reason he has carried on this long is because he’s just not all up there— he really is insane.
The ceremony draws to a close; Ranger Minion is blessed off with some sort of a complex military ritual involving seven gun minions and twenty-one shots, and Dark Arts Minion’s pyre is lit, which sends the lighting minions away pretty quickly because burning flesh smells nasty. A few high fives and hugs are handed out between the awkwardly joyful crowd, and Chaos yells “Alright, now back to your labors!” to send them all on their way. It was a pretty bad funeral by most sums, Aoline feels, though she can forgive it on account of it being hosted by The Overlord.
She watches Chaos a moment as he looks upon the two displays with a very gentle, sad smile. It is here that the clip-board-bearing minion steps forward to The Star Tearer.
“Sir.”
Chaos looks over. “Ahh~ dearest Secretary Minion, the knights caught you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Chaos squints an eye, his woe concealed instantly with confidence as he stares at Dark Arts Minion’s bright pyre. “That is what they get for crossing me- pathetic weaklings. Scout Minion is naturally my finest minion— strong and loyal, that one. Tell me, where did she rally off to? I would have expected she would be here with you all.” He addresses her with open, honest eyes and a proud smile.
She peers away slyly. “Matter is… sir, we didn’t all make it back.”
Chaos pauses for a moment. “Oh, I beg your pardon. Would you mind repeating that for me?”
“We didn’t all make it back. They got Scout Minion.”
The Overlord pauses again and laughs as he twitches his antennae. Aoline approaches, watching his expressions change every few seconds in fascination. “Well, she can take care of herself. Order’s just ‘interrogating’ her, I’d reckon.”
“Hot,” Secretary Minion notes with a smirk, much to Chaos’ chagrin.
“You better straighten up that wanton attitude, young minion lady. You do prefer being a secretary, don’t you?”
“Y-yes sir!” she says with a sharp salute, flapping her clip board nervously.
“Are you certain you didn’t appreciate life more as “Risqué Reference Minion?”
“Yes sir, I’m certain! P-pple-”
“Because I didn’t even give you that job; a matter of fact that’s-”
“I understand, sir!”
“Because that’s very unminionly behavior. My minions are well known for their upstanding and quite mature-”
“HA! MORE LIKE BUTT CONNOISSEUR MINION!” A random minion shouts across the field to poor little Nut Connoisseur Minion, who outright breaks out into tears from the insult.
Chaos growls just as Attitude Adjustment Minion rushes in and gives the passerby minion a good scolding. He nods as he turns back to Secretary Minion.
“Regardless— Scout Minion tells me she’s okay, and that she’s trying to field information for me on The Knight’s next move.”
She taps her clipboard with regained enthusiasm. “Just so, sir. Very good. So on that note, I already have your most likely ready.”
“Most likely?” Aoline asks, standing by the wayside just a step off.
Secretary Minion, though she’s just Aoline’s height, still has the nerve to attempt to look down on her. “Just so.”
Chaos squints an eye. “If Scout Minion is not present, who else would I take with me?”
Secretary Minion’s left eye raises cartoonishly; without eyebrows or other facial features, Aoline must admit they’re an expressive bunch. “The one that’s not an official minion, sir?”
Chaos leans back in realization. “… Do you really think it’s gotten that bad?”
“Sir, have you looked in the mirror recently?”
“One does not need a mirror to appreciate true brilliance,” Chaos says with a smile.
“No sir, I mean your wounds. You’re completely messed up, and even if you got your arm back, it’d be months before you were internally re-sutured.”
The Breaker of the Teeth Fortress of Yorg’Zhan rubs his chin with his only arm in thought as he looks over his grievous injuries. “I can’t say I am all that worri-”
“You should be, sir. Chances are Order will be short on the trail as well.”
Chaos scoffs. “She doesn’t know of vampire magi-… oh wait,” his gaze trails off awkwardly.
“Exactly, sir. She won’t be far behind, and if we’re going to rescue Friendion, you are going to need help!”
Chaos hums in skeptical consideration. “I must maintain a low profile if I’m going to be invading Pales’ realm.”
Secretary Minion sighs as she weighs her hands upon her hips. “Sir, you have the magical signature of a country; there'll be no concealers either, knowing them. Everyone is going to know you’re there. For all we know, Sacern, Zeus, Ree, Satan— anyone could just pop in asking for a fight,” she says, dropping names of the likes Aoline’s never heard.
“Why would they ask for fights they could not win?”
Secretary Minion huffs. “We all know you could tango any of these overlords, but the second it becomes a square dance you’ll be in hot water. You need the very best.”
Chaos crosses his one arm along his chest as if he had a second to meet with it. “I will be upfront in that I do not quite like the idea.”
Aoline raises her hand amidst the breezy field. “If I may.”
> “By all means,” Chaos prescribes with a nod.
“Who exactly are we talking about? I thought Scout Minion was your best fighter.”
Chaos grins. “Among my actual, loyal minions, yes. The person in question has in fact been blessed by my essence like the rest, but his will is… exceptional.”
Aoline draws back in disbelief. “He can resist your control?”
Secretary Minion clicks her pen. “Just so.”
“That’s… I’ve never imagined that would be possible.”
Chaos chuckles with healthy humor. “Well, it is quite possible. It just so happens that this ‘minion’ never allowed himself to reach the breaking point for proper servitudization.”
Aoline squints an eye. “So like, you’re trying to infest him even now?”
Chaos nods. “I consider him one of my pet projects. I’ve gotten close a few times over the years— but where I surpass all in the physical, one’s mind is to each his own. He is an… exceptionally motivated opponent.”
“Who is he?”
Chaos grins. “… I haven’t the slightest idea.”
“What?”
“J-just so?” Aoline and Secretary Minion respond respectively.
“But that’s not important, as you will be the one coming with me to Pales’ moonlit dimension— yes.”
Stars fire off in Aoline’s eyes as Secretary Minion clicks her pen nervously. “Y-y-you’re taking the girl!?”
“I am.”
“Into the vampire dimension.”
“Correct.”
She sighs drearily. “And you understand vampires can smell human blood?”
His smile curves delightfully. “Why not?”
“Y-… Yes sir.”
“Now, I’ll have you show Aoline around and prepare her for the expedition. Ensure she’s both equipped and rested.”
“Like I was supposed to last time?”
Chaos squints an eye. “You were?”
“I mean, presumably. We have a lot of enchanted gear she, as a human, could have used during the campaign for Oa.”
He shrugs. “Well, she’ll have it this time!”
Secretary Minion sighs again with a slow salute. “As you wish it, sir,” she says as she turns for the tower’s door. “This way, young lady.”
“Gotcha, thank you!” Aoline starts off with Secretary Minion, sparing one more glance to Chaos. “I’ll see you soon, sir?”
Chaos nods with a tired smile. “You most assuredly will.”
She smiles back and motions off in farewell, leaving Chaos alone with the pyre and the grave.
He takes a moment for himself, and then speaks. “She’s taken a good deal from me, you two included… I’ll miss you, but know this: I’m proud of you both, and what you’ve done holds more worth than most lives can attest to across their whole collection of years… thank you… we will meet again, and I will take you both into my arms.”
At that, he waves off as if the two were there to wave back; having delivered his proper parting sentiments, The Overlord now makes his way down into the deepest and most secret of his chambers within Towerne— his realmancy room.
In these cold chambers inundated with what seems to be drawings and tomes full of nonsense and scribbles, Chaos locks the door to begin the process. One must be alone for abstract object collection, after all.
“So… books by Kell Inkston, eh?” he mutters as he begins drawing in impossible elements. “Let’s see just how far I can ‘read ahead’.” He adds this with a dangerous tone as the lights in the room begin to flicker out.
Chapter Eighteen: Perfect Interrogation
Order stands facing a one-way enchanted stain glass display as she observes a magically-chained Scout Minion, herself looking none too pleased to be trapped alone in a room.
In a moment, Redemption is back with her. “Rayda forget these damn bureaucrats,” he says stretching his neck about as he stands even to her to examine Scout Minion.
Order nods. “Maybe if they’d let us do our job instead of holding a meeting every week we’d be a little ahead of the season.”
He nods back solemnly. “Right, so this is the one you g-… Hey, isn’t that—”
“Yeah, that's the one that was with Chaos.”
“Must be a strong one.”
“Tiny though,” she scoffs, “about Cooking Minion’s size.”
Redemption squints an eye. “Cooking Minion?”
“He names them based on their jobs.”
He nods with raised brows. “…Sort of surprised I didn’t know that.”
“It’s not like you’ve been around him much,” she says as she looks over Scout Minion with cool, blue eyes.
Redemption clears his throat. “I assume you’re not too shook up about… everything.”
Order gives no expression, but the cosmetic magic affecting her eyes flushes them to a grayish color. “Perceptive as ever, I see,” she lies. Redemption’s a great fighter and a fantastic administrator— however, his skill in reading people leaves much to be desired.
He nods. “Well, frankly I feel the same, or perhaps don’t feel. I thought the day I lost Clarn would be one I’d hold to my chest forever, but it just feels… it feels like a regular day to me.”
“I guess it’s all in the job. Our days count so high that even losing an old friend means… almost nothing to us now.”
Redemption glances over to Order to judge her expression. “Is that how you feel with Meeo?”
She purses her lips as she glances to the floor. “…I haven’t given up on her yet.”
“But… her condition when you saw her.”
“I felt a signature in there, and it wasn’t the typical undead.”
Redemption squints an eye in thought. “…Vampirian?”
She nods.
“My god… if Pales is onto the situation...”
“And counting she now has Aerna’s only realmancer,” she adds.
Redemption looks aside in dreadful contemplation. “There’s no way Pales would let her die— but perhaps it would have been better if she did… I suppose, knowing you, you caught the signature trail?”
Order nods again as she watches Scout Minion rumble about in her ornate chair. “I did. It was a sling through Overlord Space, but I know the coordinates anyway.”
Redemption’s gaze focuses back in shock. “The Lunar House?!”
Order nods once more. “One and the same.”
“The world of a million vampires…. Why would she interfere?”
“Did you ever read Chaos’ ‘A Treatise Against the Laughable Human Race’?”
Redemption squints an eye as they both listen to Scout Minion roar with the fury of a thousand fluffy bunnies. “You mean that pile of paper and ink he slammed into the door of every major office in the realm?”
Order smirks. “That’s the one.”
“The very same that was over two thousand pages of indecipherable nonsense and condemnation?”
“Mhmm.”
“I’ll admit I read halfway through the introduction— but stopped when I arrived at the break in the middle that listed all of his best insulting nick names for me.”
“Re-dumpinthesewer-tion,” she mutters under her breath.
“Ranalie, please, what of it?”
“Somewhere towards the end he entered one of his lucid states, and started writing about overlord society and their networked realms. Most helpful to us, however, is that he wrote a few lines about a ‘Night God’.”
“Oa?”
“Deeper— a master of all the parasitic and undead beings of the dark and ground. He calls it Ohkiij.”
“Weird name.”
“Apparently a formation from the gap of life between souls and bodies, Ohkiij came into being the moment the first life-bearing creature died. It’s a conscious force of nature— the very first life form to pervert the natural law, thus it accepted mastery over it all.”
“I don’t think one can be a concept, and
a being at the same time, do you?”
Order squints as Scout Minion flips the chair and begins edging her chains into the corner of the table like a pry. “I don’t know what to expect, or what they want, but if Pales asserts control over Meeo—”
“Turns her?”
“Yes— then she’d have a willing realmancer servant, and I don’t like the idea of a motivated, evil Meeo looking to figure out how to destroy us.”
Redemption crosses his arms thoughtfully. “This is… this is pretty serious.”
“As if it weren’t already?”
“It’s just… Ever since we lost Rayda… and Reinen—”
“Its barely been thirty years.”
“Mankind has so many enemies, and so few allies now. I’m not looking forward to the future, Ranalie.”
“Why’s that?”
“We’re going to die out with a whimper. We’ll be stuffed in some monstrosity’s meat pits, or made slaves of. We ruled for thousands of years, and now… now we’ve lost our light.”
Ranalie looks Daniel in the eyes. “I don’t know about you,” she says as she pats Monument’s glowing hilt, a subtle betrayal to the immensity of power within, “but I have all the light I need right here,” she then shifts to pat Redemption’s shoulder, “and right here.”
Redemption flinches gently under her touch. “You…” He takes a deep breath. “I’ve always loved you, you know.”
Order smiles back. “I’ve felt the same way for a long time, sir.”
He gently waves his hand over to hold hers, and she takes it as they partake in the crazy scene of Scout Minion’s continual failed escape. “Maybe one day… if we’re ever not needed anymore.”
“…Maybe one day. When Chaos is… done, and regular law enforcement can handle problems.”
The two hold hands a moment more with stupid, sad looks on their faces, punctuated by smiles.
“Good job, Daniel,” Order says.
