TOS - Vol 3, Part 1, Chapter 4

The Overlord Saga

Vol III. The Armageddon Prophecy

Chapter 4: In The Mountain's Shadow

It was the next day before the OoM members had departed, and once the doors had been slammed shut behind both Acolyte and Siren, there were immediate, relieved shouts of joy that rang throughout the foundations and halls of the Fortress. The Apprentice cracked out a few common, popular Earth melodies, one of which detailed a woman waking up in the morning feeling like a very well-known rapper. The Overlord allowed herself a brief moment of relaxing, the consciousness of the Theurgist wavering in her emotions for a moment. She felt his worry, the worry that the Evocator had potentially fallen in her studies, in her grief for her lost lover. And though the thought was fleeting, the Overlord realized how much still remained as a barrier between the neighboring souls. She cast a glance about the festive corridors as the Underlings began their dancing and singing. Somewhere, the Soul-Keeper was digging through his iPod, trying to find Phantom of the Opera. And the Ninja-Lord had returned in silence, a disgruntled Sexist in tow. Propped up by a pair of crutches, the Captain looked on from the outskirts, a wry grin on his face.

It's hard to think we were at war less than a year ago and this place was in ruins, the Theurgist remarked silently. We went from living by an old pool, to partying it up in a grand Fortress, and it's all thanks to you.

Us, you mean. I'd have died if you hadn't been there.

True...

She was caught off guard by the Advisor poking her shoulder lightly. The Overlord glanced over at her friend, who was donning a fanciful overcoat-cape that was dark blue in color. She waved at the Overlord, then said "You know... Everyone's been talking about this whole 'Rift' thing that's going on." When the Overlord merely nodded her response, accepting the information, the Advisor continued, "And, as your advisor, I need to tell you... You absolutely need to do something about this. You're the Overlord of the Between. You're required to do something about all uncanny occurrences and strange events." The Overlord's brow furrowed, and she opened her mouth in protest, but the Advisor cut her off, "And don't tell me 'Oh, it wasn't in your job description', because it's here." She pulled a scroll from her sleeve, then unfolded it. The Overlord snatched it with a hand, glaring at the Advisor with one uncovered jade eye. Eye flicking back down to the scroll, the Overlord cleared her throat, ignoring the mental laughter of the Theurgist somewhere in the depths of her mind.

The Overlord read, reluctantly, "As the official Overlord of the Between, the following is required and demanded of the person(s) holding the title (it should be noted that if the person holding the title is unable to perform any of these tasks, they are subjected to being replaced by their second-in-command):
1. Must steal a minimum of 10 souls per month unless it is December. Then no souls are required.
2. Must pay a rent of 500 souls per year to God. Can be given to the
3. Must wear a cape.
4. Must protect the Fortress at all costs.
5. Must possess, at all times, a jar of Nutella.
6. Must not give in to peer-pressure and disturbing indulgences such as yaoi, Justin Bieber, and being a cheerleader.
7. Must act in cases of emergency. Such cases may include uncanny occurrences (ie- giant rifts forming in the Between) and strange events (Justin Bieber being proven to be male)."

There was a pause. A thoughtful, moment where the Overlord's emerald eye flicked towards the ceiling, staring at the crystalline chandelier that the Soul-Keeper had ordered so very long ago. The one that was polished to perfection, yes, putting even the one used in Phantom of the Opera to shame. Her gaze moved to the perfectly carved columns, which had been recently altered to depict phoenixes with outstretched wings. She glanced at the dancing Underlings. The Underlings sipping tea mixed with lemonade and laughing. The heavy metallic doors that barred the celebration from the outer wall, which, then, barred them from the desolate wasteland, where their enemies lurked at every shadow. She looked at her home, a sinking feeling in her heart as some flicker of a thought in the back of her mind realized that they were all in danger... Again. And procrastination wouldn't help. And partying and ignoring the problem wouldn't help. She shuddered at the ignorance displayed before the Nemesis' initial attack. She couldn't let it happen again.

"My second-in-command. That'd be the Soul-Keeper," the Overlord remarked, then looked at the Advisor, "And there's no way I'm letting that happen." She smiled coyly, then clapped the Advisor on the shoulder, "Well, keep the party going. I don't want anyone to be worried about what might happen. I'll go with the Soul-Keeper to see Maverick. She'll have some ideas about what to do."

"I hope you're right..." the Advisor said sternly, then sighed, "But must we really keep on with this stupid... Ke$ha music?"

The Overlord shrugged, "Just don't be suspicious. That can't be too hard for you. You only have one expression... And it's the annoyed one. Like... the one you're giving me... right... now..." the Overlord's voice trailed off as the Advisor's pale blue eyes narrowed in annoyance. There was a shrug, a smirk, and the Overlord was cantering over towards the Soul-Keeper throwing an arm around him. She caught the Ninja-Lord's suspicious glare, but ignored it, leaning over to whisper in the Soul-Keeper's ear. "So, there's something I need for you to do."

He perked up, a cookie halfway shoved in his mouth. "Hrnmh?

Dusting the crumbs from the Soul-Keeper's cheeks, the Overlord said, "We're going on an.... Adventure. Like we used to." The Soul-Keeper's dark eyes lit up at this, and his master continued slyly, "But it's secretive. We can't tell anyone." As the Soul-Keeper nodded slowly and finished the cookie, the Overlord began discreetly pulling the hooded magician off towards the doors leading to the gardens. On the back of her neck, she felt the Ninja-Lord's deep blue eyes watching. It was unnerving really, and the idea that her loyal third-in-command had fallen into such a mistrustful state was only grating on the Overlord's patience even further. She was going to have to be monitored due to suspicious behavior. And the Overlord knew the exact person for the job.

Out of the double doors and into the afternoon air, the Overlord stopped to turn to her companion. "We're investigating the Rift, Soul-Keeper," She explained shortly.

"There's a Rift?" the Soul-Keeper asked.

"Yes, and it's very important for plot purposes of this story," the Overlord said calmly, arms on her hips. "And for awesome factor, we're just not going to tell anyone where we're going. Fair enough?"

"Makes sense!" the Soul-Keeper nodded affirmatively.

"Excellent!" the Overlord opened a portal behind her and the Soul-Keeper stepped through. She followed, and the dangling sphere of light vanished behind the swirl of her crimson cape.

And at the base of the Red Stone Mountains, they stood. Necks craned back, viewing the jagged peaks, the duo allowed themselves to momentarily be taken in by the sight of the ancient landmarks... And then promptly began forward, heads held high. This demeanor of confidence and composure lasted for a grand total of ten minutes before the two were immensely tired of hiking and the Overlord finally looked back at her robed comrade and said, "Damn. It's HOT out here." He looked back, hood fallen from his dark hair and looked at her, sweaty, panting, and head bobbing up and down comically. At that point, it was decided that the Overlord would summon a series of platforms to get them to their destination. Clambering onto the first of the semi-visible platforms, the two stopped to rest, viewing the Fortress outlined by the sun and orange sky miles upon miles away. Bordered by the horizon and the endless colored sky was the Western woods, home of the Insurgents and the Overlord's brother. Well... long-lost-and-recently-found brother. She rang a hand through her longer, dark brown hair, then huffed out a sigh.

"Why does the Maverick live so freaking far away from everyone else?" the Soul-Keeper whined, looking rather tempted at stripping out of his heavy, golden-tinged robes. "We should've brought Sexist. He could've summoned some ice cream for us or something."

"I don't think he can do that," the Overlord said flatly, then stood up, stretched, and summoned a second platform. She nimbly hopped onto it, then looked back and waved at the Soul-Keeper, "Break's over, buddy."

Stumbling to his feet, the Soul-Keeper scowled, then followed the Overlord onto the next platform, "Well, I could use something! A nice glass of lemonade, maybe. I love lemonade. I always wanted to sell lemonade in a stand. Like all the other kids do!" He climbed onto the next platform with the Overlord. "Why did the author decide to give me heavy, not-really-functional robes for my character design!? Do you know how hot it is in here? My sweat is SWEATING. AND IT'S SO HARD TO LIFT THIS UP FOR THE BATHROOM, YOU HAVE NO IDEA!"

The Theurgist was amused by this conversation. And as the Overlord sized up a leap into a nearby cave, the Theurgist spoke, but through his current body's more feminine vocal chords, "Because, Soul-Keeper, not only are you functioning as the comic relief, but you're also the stereotypical robed magician. We have to have you. Or else we'll not be deemed an official fantasy story. If this is even fantasy. I'd say it's more like a twisted biography, but whatever..." the Overlord drew a dagger and leapt towards the mountain suddenly, sinking the blade into the side of the mountain in order to not skid downwards. She looked up at a ledge just a few yards up, and carefully began to climb. The Soul-Keeper watched dismally from the platform she had abandoned him on.

"Okay, there's no way I'm gonna make that jump!" the Soul-Keeper flailed his arms, "I don't have a spiffy dagger. If I fall, I go all the way down!"

The Overlord swung herself onto the ledge, then looked down at the Soul-Keeper, smirking despite the sweat pouring down her face, "Come on. I'll make another platform and you can jump from there. I'll even catch you."

"You won't catch me!"

"Oh yes I will."

"You're gonna let me fall, aren't you?"

"If you keep annoying me like this, then yes."

"Ha. Ha... ha.... ha. You're soooo funny," the Soul-Keeper scowled, then climbed the platform that appeared above of his head. And as he stood, sizing up the leap between platform to cave entrance, he gulped, his Adam's apple visibly dipping inward. The Overlord sheathed the dagger, then extended her arms, as if to gesture that she wanted to hug the Soul-Keeper. There was a running start, the magician's black boots thudding against the transparent platform, then a leap... That the Overlord could tell was far shorter than what was necessary. She rushed forward, eyes snapping wide and arms outstretched.

Images flashed through her mind. The image of the Nemesis clouding her vision momentarily, followed by the image of the Uberlord dispelling the Insurgent Leader from their previous battle. And this, was even trailed by the image of the Theurgist's frozen form, so realistic that even the Overlord, at that present moment, could feel the cold radiating from the ice wall where he had been trapped. But her fingers clasped the Soul-Keeper's, the majority of her body dangling over the edge. The Soul-Keeper let out a girlish scream, his boots scraping and wounding the rock on the cliff's edge. She heaved back, but found that her strength was suddenly failing. Her back was aching. Her arms were like jelly, her fingers slick with sweat from the climb. The Soul-Keeper's dark eyes stared at her in a panic, in a biting desperation that clawed at her heart. There was no letting him go.

"Vires!"

And the Soul-Keeper was flung overhead, still latched onto the Overlord's wrists, but falling back behind her, winded as his back struck the stone floor. The Overlord winced, turning and looking back at her stunned comrade, who had been saved, yes, but at what cost? Let's hope he didn't catch what you just did... The Theurgist's chiding words sent a wave of frustration through the Overlord. I just saved him. He should be thanking me, not wondering what kind of spell I just used!

"Oh my... Oh my goodness..." the Soul-Keeper breathed, sitting up.

"Are you okay?" the Overlord asked, looking at her friend. She walked over, bending down next to him to see if he was injured.

"Yeah... I think so... Wait," the Soul-Keeper glanced down at his right hand. Gasping, the Overlord realized there was blood, droplets decorating the palm of his hand. I hurt him! "I think I'm bleeding... Wait a minute..." He wiped the flecks of crimson away to reveal nothing. No wound. No injury. Pure flesh, untouched and unmarred, yet the Overlord found it a welcome sight. But a small glance was tossed downward at the Overlord's arm, where she noted blood barely seeping through her dark gloves- something that could be covered and ignored.

"Are you... Bleeding?" the Soul-Keeper asked as a stray drop trailed down her exposed fingertip. The Overlord shuffled a step back, a tad uncertain at this question, but shrugged a careless response.

"Maybe you ought to trim your fingernails."

"Maybe."

The Overlord turned towards the cave entrance, then casually walked inside. The Soul-Keeper rose from the red-toned ground, dusted his behind off, then followed his leader into the shadowy depths. An extended hand from the Overlord summoned an orb of fire that acted as a torch for the exploring duo. "Maverick?" the Overlord called, though kept her voice relatively quiet. "I know this is her home... Where is she? Maverick?" The two proceeded forward, quiet and watchful. The hallways, usually alight with various glowing vegetation, was strangely dark. And though the Overlord had a half a mind that the Maverick had vacated this location long ago, she had hoped that the loner would have returned here. There's not much hope here, Overlord. Might as well turn back now, the Theurgist said grimly. She ran her hands along the dirt walls, still gazing into the darkness.

"You sure this is the right place?" the Soul-Keeper frowned.

"Positive," came the sigh of a reply.

"There's not much down here," the Soul-Keeper pointed out. "Nothing but mushrooms, rocks, a few doused torches, and this weird wall with carvings on it."

"Mushrooms, rocks, torches, and what?" the Overlord spun around, bringing the light closer to where the Soul-Keeper was pointing.

When she saw the wall, she was not surprised. Not in the slightest. It was that gut feeling that made her smile, a twinge of an emotion and a small feeling of triumph. So what if they hadn't found Maverick? They had at least found something. But the carvings were strange, though the Overlord couldn't say that she was an expert in spontaneous carving designs on ancient walls. She could feel a sensation of magic imbued in the mountain, though it didn't help with the letters on the wall. It was not pictures, but words, in something that looked a mixture of Latin and Chinese. In other words, it was something completely beyond the Overlord.

"I wonder what would happen if I touched it?" the Soul-Keeper wondered aloud, and as the Overlord began to protest, the Soul-Keeper reached out and prodded the wall, which... Resulted in nothing. At first. But a second prod revealed a glow about the characters inscribed in the stone, releasing a golden aura. Shifting to the left, the wall gave way, revealing a passage into even further depths. "Well, that's spiffy," the Soul-Keeper remarked, and began down the passage nonchalantly.

"Do you even know where that leads?" the Overlord asked him, peering at his disappearing form.

"Nope!" came the almost giddy reply.

"Oh joy..." the Overlord frowned, then stalked after her headstrong, borderline unreliable companion.

The tunnels were narrow at first, but the Overlord noticed how they widened as the two ventured deeper into the mountains. She kept a small flare of fire in her hand, extended out so that she could still see the Soul-Keeper. He didn't seem to care if he left her behind or not, so she struggled to keep up. She tried to get him to slow down, but he seemed driven to explore the tunnel. Silently, the Overlord cursed herself for bringing her most easily distracted Underling along with her. He's so simple it almost hurts, the Theurgist commented. The Overlord agreed, but shook her head. Sometimes, I forget why we even have him in the first place... A brief memory of the pickle jar with glowsticks in it flashed across her mind's eye and the Theurgist let out a cackle of approval, so strong that the Overlord had to clamp down on her lips to prevent an actual laugh.

Before long, the mouth of the tunnel spilled out into a much grander corridor. The stone walls, which had begun very unorganized and plain, seemed to be more decorated. The ancient symbols from before returned, with variations, new characters, and even a few pictures. The Overlord paused to examine a small picture of something that resembled an eagle. "This is just like in the movies. Right before they find El Dorado." She threw a look over at her second-in-command, then noted how he stood at the end of the tunnel, his hands clasping the edges of his hood. The Overlord's head tilted and she followed him, her boots making light thuds against the stone floor. Clasping his shoulder with one hand, she neared the edge, stopping to look out over the edge of the cliffside, at the ruined temple that rested before them.

It was something out of an Indiana Jones movie- or that's what she thought. It reminded her of the fourth one, you know... The one they made for marketing purposes. Where they threw in that guy from Transformers. And there were aliens. Random aliens. I digress- the temple! It was a magnificent piece of architecture, like something crafted by expert hands. The stone was smooth and perfect, with pillars that had various creatures etched into their marble. In the front three pillars that supported and framed the pathway into the temple, the Overlord could distinguish a giant boar-like animal, an eagle with massive wings semi-folded to its sides, and what looked to be a large shark, it's fangs devouring the edges of the pillar.

"So this looks promising," the Overlord commented.

"More promising than Final Fantasy XIII-2," the Soul-Keeper remarked.

"Ha! Franchises," the Overlord snorted.

And the two made their descent, which was painfully... easy, as the Overlord merely summoned a few platforms for them to leap on and they were on the grand in less than a minute. The Soul-Keeper went first, the head of his staff glowing as though it were a large torch. The Overlord stuck near him at all times, careful to conceal her right eye just in case. And where do you think this leads? The Theurgist prodded playfully.

Narnia.

Poor Insurgent Leader...

"There's just something weird about this place..." The Soul-Keeper murmured, then grinned, "I like it!"

"You also like musicals. And puppets," the Overlord commented, gently grabbing the Soul-Keeper's staff and bringing it forward to reveal a large door sealing the temple shut. "Keep the light here." She instructed, then stepped forward, looking at what seemed to be a notch on the door.

"Looks like it takes a key," the Soul-Keeper observed, "Too bad you turned that kid with the key-sword away."

"There's always a hitch in the plan. Whatever. Give me your staff, I wanna see if I can pry this thing open," the Overlord held out her hand. The Soul-Keeper wordlessly passed his staff to her, watching with anticipation. The Overlord shoved the end of the staff into the hole where the key would have gone, then began to feel around to see if she could unlock the door. She pushed. She pulled. She wriggled the staff in the slot a few times. She pulled the staff out, then slammed it back in the lock. She yelled a plethora of profanities. She took a small break. And, then she got back up to try again. And after the third or fourth time of pulling back on the staff, the Soul-Keeper decided to intervene.

"Let me try," he offered, and the Overlord relented. He grabbed the staff in both hands, then moved it slightly towards him. There was the click of something unlocking... But nothing. The door did not move. It did not budge. It merely stood there, staff still protruding awkwardly from the lock. The Overlord watched, unimpressed. The Soul-Keeper withdrew the staff, sighing, "Or not..."

"Maybe this is a bust," the Overlord remarked, "Maybe we should just turn back."

"I'm starting to agree with you, sadly enough... I want an omelette," the Soul-Keeper shrugged, and turned to go.

That was when there was a crack of light that emerged from between the cracks of the door. The Overlord grabbed the Soul-Keeper's sleeve somewhere in the pounding and roar of the stone gates swinging open, revealing a blinding light that enveloped the two. Somewhere in the background, the Overlord could heard the faint chorus of angels singing. And she wondered what exactly they'd gotten themselves into.