The Overlord Saga
Vol III. The Armageddon Prophecy
Chapter 7: Right 69
“She’s invoked the Right of Parlay!”
The Overlord had a myriad of hands seizing her and she could honestly say that she didn’t like being man(woman?)handled, especially by her enemies. Tinkerbell had the back of her neck, Foreigner had her wrists, and Idico had a knife to her back. The Insurgent Leader’s cursed blade was drawn back to strike, but McCoy had placed himself between the Overlord and the Insurgent Leader. That was lucky, the Theurgist remarked.
“Are you crazy?” Tinkerbell hissed under his breath.
“McCoy!” the Insurgent Leader yelled, “What are you doing?!”
“If an adversary demands parlay, you can do no harm to them until the parlay is complete,” McCoy answered flatly, “We’re not rogues, we’re not thieves, and we’re certainly not bandits! We’re gentlemen, aren’t we?” He cast his gaze across the campsite of Insurgents. “We keep to our word!”
“Thomas, this is a matter of of national, no, scratch that- universal security,” the Overlord said quickly, staring up at her little brother. “I need to talk to you. Alone.” She tried to glare him down, perhaps stare him into submission, but she saw nothing in his eyes except coldness. This wasn’t like when DIB had invaded. He had been delving in dark magic then, and the Overlord knew that affected the senses more than anything. This time, he was angered at her, probably due to their previous duel. Like a pair of bullets, his eyes sank into hers, and she felt some sort of stirring in her chest, that weakened her limbs and finally tore her gaze from him. Guilt. And perhaps she understood why he was so angry- for the first time in a long time. It was the anniversary since their never-ending war had started. I never pick the best times to pay Baby Brother a visit...
“Fine,” the Insurgent Leader said through clenched teeth and with the wave of his hand, the Insurgents released the Overlord. She rose from the ground, tossing her hair back, and smoothing it with both hands. The Insurgent Leader turned on his heel and vanished into the tent behind him. McCoy nodded for her to follow him, and the Overlord heeded him silently, entering the Insurgent Leader’s tent, breath held out of anxiety.
The Insurgent Leader sat down, cross-legged, on the far side from the tent entrance. His sword was laid in front of him, its runes and symbols glinting in the firelight that blazed gently in the center of the tent. The smoke pillared out from a hole at the top. It was quiet, except for the murmurs outside- the whispers that the Overlord could hear all too well.
“What is it?” the Insurgent Leader finally asked.
“You’ve seen the Rift,” the Overlord said, only because she knew he had because it was probably the only thing keeping him from attacking her. He must be researching it, too... the Theurgist directed her attention to a stack of books to the Insurgent Leader’s left. Her eyes flickered from the books to her rival, and she continued, “I’ve been looking into it as well. Thomas, what have you discovered?”
The Insurgent Leader stared evenly at her, one elbow resting on his knee, his curled fist propping up his head. “I had sentries posted the night the Rift was formed,” He said slowly, “Foreigner was doing a patrol. She said that there were two forms somewhere between your Fortress and the woods. They were ghosts, that what she called them- silvery and looked like humans.”
“And how much did she have to drink before this?” the Overlord scoffed.
“Let me finish,” the Insurgent Leader said sharply, then sighed, running his hands through his hair, “The two forms were there, then there was an earthquake. The earth parted... And the Rift formed. That was her report. I did look into the matter, and I have not found much except that something beyond Life and the Between created it.” The Insurgent Leader sighed, “Go ahead and tell me what you found.”
“I don’t know about silvery ghosts or whatever Foreigner saw...” the Overlord puffed at a twig of hair that was in her eyes, “But from what I’ve heard... I’m invoking Right 69. There is a call for the Allied Forces to be formed.”
The Insurgent Leader paused, his brow furrowed, “The Allied Forces? I haven’t heard that name since...” he trailed off, then asked, “If you’re invoking Right 69... False One, what’s going on that’s called for such drastic measures? Tell me!”
---
The Ninja-Lord stood outside Fort Effort, Shinobi, Kunoichi, and Llama behind her. She frowned, her head leaned back as she glared up at the gates. I remember when we broke into this place... she thought, then looked over her shoulder at the other three ninjas, “Do you see anything strange?” She asked, tapping her foot and folding her arms.
“It’s quiet,” Kunoichi replied, “Too quiet. I’m going to make an assumption and say that either something is wrong here or... The Ifills are all on vacation.”
“Vacation, eh?” Shinobi asked, “Well, that’s stupid.” He slammed his katana into the ground, then scowled, “Who goes on vacation at a time like this?”
“The Twin?” Llama suggested helpfully, albeit with a weak, semi-shy smile.
Throwing five kunai into the gate, the Ninja-Lord threw an order over her shoulder, “Scout the area. Tell me if you find anything.” She bounded towards the gates to Fort Effort, then proceeded to run up the gates, latching onto the throwing knives embedded in the gates to help her climb. Once she reached the top, she waved her hand and the kunai came flying back, placing themselves back into her belt. She glanced about the wall top, then hopped down, landing on her feet. Although she expected to see a plethora of guards waiting for her, she found, instead, that the small gardens leading up to the inner portion of Fort Effort were, in fact, deserted.
Nothing...
She looked at the doors leading into the fort, then approached, noting that there was some sort of notice taped crudely to the middle of the door. The Ninja-Lord narrowed her eyes, then plucked the piece of paper from the door, taking it in both hands and looking it over.
It read:
To whom this may concern,
I, the Twin, hereby have gone adventuring and have taken my troops. I have left a plethora of booby traps in my fort. If you are to break in, please take caution. Or you might die. Have a wonderful evening. Or morning. Or afternoon.
Sincerely,
The Twin
“Gone adventuring,” the Ninja-Lord repeated, sighing to herself. When we need you the most, Twin... You’re not here. Great. She whistled and there were three puffs of smoke that followed. Shinobi, Kunoichi, and Llama appeared behind her, saluting their leader in respectful silence. The Ninja-Lord put the piece of paper back where she had found it, then shrugged, “Guess we’re out of luck.”
“Boo,” Kunoichi frowned, “What are we going to tell the Overlord?”
“The truth. That she’s not here,” the Ninja-Lord said grudgingly.
---
Sexist sat in the Lounge, sipping on a glass of half lemonade, half tea, crunched in a huge group of Underlings that surrounded him. TCUE and Brainsucker were doing something he didn’t really want to see on the table- something that involved crude humor and Invader Zim quotes, with Owl and Ginger on the ground laughing beneath them. He glanced at his glass, wondering if there was something in the liquid that was less than desirable. He slipped out from his chair, glancing over at where the Sorceress was sitting with the Corporal and the Swordmaster. He casually sat down, glancing at them to see if they disapproved. Oddly enough, they hardly seemed to notice him.
“I swear, that drink that she has you chug is doing weird things to me. I keep having the strangest cravings for celery dipped in queso. And sprinkles. Just sprinkles by itself. Not with the celery,” the Corporal was saying, his hat resting on the table.
“She makes you drink stuff?” the Swordmaster asked incredulously, “What IS it?”
“No clue, but it tasted really good. Like a daiquiri,” the Corporal shrugged.
“I remember when she made me drink that,” Sexist remarked quietly. The other three turned to stare at him. He felt suddenly rather small compared to the three Elite members, “It’s some concoction that gives you strange powers.”
“Eye glowing one of them?” the Corporal pointed at his own eyes. Sexist flipped his blonde hair, and looked down at his drink, avoiding their stares.
He hadn’t forgotten his time with the Dark Ice Brotherhood, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to let him forget, either. The Overlord’s glares were plaguing enough, but in a way, he almost took some sick pleasure out of seeing how angry she got. He smiled, ever so slightly, at the memory of finally taking her down. True enough, she’d been bloodied, battered, and powerless, but he’d been satisfied with defeating her. She’d been beaten at her own game. He’d beaten her at her own game. She’ll never admit it. But I’m right.
“Well, Fish grew a tail a few nights ago,” Sexist pointed out.
“A tail?” the Sorceress asked, raising her eyebrows.
“A fluffy one,” Sexist shrugged.
“What if I grow a tail?” the Corporal asked, looking at the Sorceress in horror.
“An ugly one,” the Swordmaster chimed in with a snarky grin.
“Whaaaaaaaat?” the Soul-Keeper asked, sidling into a seat next to Sexist. “Tails? Oh! Oh! I have a tail!”
“Er... No you don’t...” the Sorceress frowned at the Soul-Keeper.
“Yeah I do! It’s right-” the Soul-Keeper began unbuttoning his pants.
“I’ll see you later,” Sexist escaped the table quickly before anything could happen, his face turning various shades of red. He found himself walking through the corridors, where he remembered just months ago were torn apart by war and destruction. He remembered Pharisee, mangled and bloodied, trying to kill him. He remembered Jester at the gates, he remembered the Overlord’s transformation, and he remembered the corpse of the Theurgist, frozen amidst the pillars. He shuddered- even though it’d been half a year, the Evocator still had that distant look in her eyes, as though she still was playing the events of that night over and over in her head.
“Looks like the Overlord’s back,” a voice could be heard not far from Sexist. He looked over in time to see Belarus with China. He paused, tilted his head, then followed them quietly, listening.
“She brought the Insurgent Leader with her. Looks like the rumors are true,” China replied, “What do you think we’ll do?”
“Leave in the morning, probably. I don’t know. We’re still waiting to hear if the Twin is moving out with us,” Belarus sighed, “I wish this was just like in the old days, where you could just light everything on fire and call it a day.”
What the heck? Sexist thought, stopping. The Insurgent Leader is here? Words ran through his mind, concepts such as: Freedom, home, and escape. He began to pursue the other two Underlings when the Soul-Keeper stopped him.
“I found my tail!” the Soul-Keeper exclaimed.
“Congratulations,” Sexist said with absolutely no enthusiasm, pushing the Soul-Keeper aside.
The Soul-Keeper sighed, “I know, I know... She did the whole ‘psychopath thing’, didn’t she?” Sexist stopped, then looked back at the Soul-Keeper, eyebrows raised. The Soul-Keeper shrugged, “The Overlord. She has this thing... I don’t even know how to describe it. One day, I walked into her office and she was a tearful mess. She was screaming and punching things. So I asked her what was wrong, and... She said you looked at her.”
“I looked at her,” Sexist echoed.
“Then she went babbling about all sorts of things. I don’t really remember. But the point is... The Overlord’s kind of crazy. You have to remember that. I mean, how else did any of this happen?” the Soul-Keeper pointed out. “You have to be crazy to take out a dark empire, rule an army, and deal with the people she has to deal with. I’d be crazy, too. Good thing I’m not her. I’d make a bad crazy person.” He nodded sagely, taking a drink out of a very large mug he was carrying with him.
“I think we’re all a little crazy. Some of us more than others,” Sexist responded.
“That’s an excellent way to put it,” the Evocator said from behind the two. Sexist started, staring at her and wondering how long she’d been listening in on their conversation. The Evocator smiled at both of them, then said, “We’ve all... Been through a lot lately. But it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” She took in a deep breath, then shrugged, “We’ve all gotten stronger from the situations we’ve been in lately. We’re all wiser. We’re all... Well. I’d like to say we learned a lot of lessons from what’s happened recently.”
The Soul-Keeper sighed, “I wish things could be how they used to be. Everything seems different now. But I guess you can’t expect people to stay the same all their life. Then... I guess things would get boring!” He threw his arms around both the Evocator and Sexist, smiling, “Well. I know this sounds corny, but as long as we all have each other, everything should be fine! Right? Well, ‘each other’ being... Christine included, too.”
“Oh. Of course. Christine,” the Evocator snorted with laughter, “I almost forgot. She doesn’t leave the Dungeon much, does she?”
“Papa makes her stay in his bed. All. Night. Long,” the Soul-Keeper winked at the Evocator. Sexist made a face behind the Soul-Keeper’s back.
---
The Overlord had returned with her younger brother in tow, but was spending the moment in her chambers, alone. There was something wrong, she knew, especially since her back had been hurting since her trip to the Insurgents’ campsite. She sat next to the sink in her bathroom, and proceeded to cautiously lift her shirt, inspecting her throbbing back.
You know... Since we’ve been joined together.... the Theurgist began very loudly in the depths of her mind. She started, then scowled at her reflection.
What? We’re ‘a lot closer now’? Is that what you were gonna say? the Overlord snorted. For the record... I didn’t look down at myself in the shower for three weeks because it was awkward. And you made me almost go into the boys’ restroom yesterday. Don’t think I didn’t notice that.
Hehehehe... I just love making us feel awkward, the Theurgist cackled.
The Overlord rolled her eyes, then began to look her back over again. Her eyes widened at the large gash that had dug itself down the middle of her spine, running from the back of her neck to where her hips were. “Oh... Oh God...” She breathed, letting go of her shirt. She took in a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself before she reached back and gingerly touched the throbbing slash mark. “W-when did I get this!?”
I told you. Dark magic always has a price.
Um, this is not a price. This is a flipping SLASH MARK. HOW DOES THIS SORT OF THING HAPPEN!?
Maybe you shouldn’t go, “Tralalalalala, I’m going to cast these HUGE AWESOME POWERFUL PWNING SPELLS...” And think you can get away with it.
People are gonna freak. Maybe it’ll heal?
That thing is gonna scar over like a mofo, and you know it.
... Well, it wasn’t like I was going for sex appeal anyways.
The Theurgist’s discontent could clearly be heard, though it wasn’t words, it sounded like a grumble somewhere in the back of her mind. She stretched, but winced at the pain, knowing she was going to have to do everything she could to conceal the giant scar on her back. Take my advice, Overlord... Stop. Stop doing it. Because that scar? It’s gonna get bigger. There’s gonna end up being more. You’re gonna have more scars than anything else. What are you trying to prove? The Overlord shoved the questions away and trudged into her office, grabbing the rod from her desk.
What are you trying to prove? That you’re stronger than the Nemesis? That you’re stronger than the Insurgent Leader? That you’re stronger than the Uberlord? That you’re stronger than S-
Alexi. STOP.
-Because you’re not proving anything. You’re proving that you’re STUPID.
Stop it.
You’re a STUPID protagonist. A STUPID, MORONIC, SELF-CENTERED protagonist.
Shut up.
People love you. Don’t you understand? God. I’m even sounding like a whiny sidekick.
If you don’t like the way you sound, then don’t make a sound.
I’m not. I’m not making a sound. I’m talking in your head. Our head.
God, you’re annoying.
God, you’re stupid.
Storming out of her office, the Overlord said nothing to the Underlings that were assembling in the throne room around the Insurgents. She noted that McCoy and Fish were talking, she noted Tinkerbell talking with TCUE and Brainsucker..... And then she noted that Sexist and the Insurgent Leader were standing next to each other, conversing casually. Yet, as both blondes turned and looked at her, the Overlord felt some sort of fuse be lit within her. Her eyes narrowed at both Sexist and the Insurgent Leader and she stalked off, opening the doors to the courtyard.
“Overlord, Fort Effort is deserted,” the Ninja-Lord informed her as she exited the building.
“Excellent,” the Overlord said absent-mindedly, then proceeded to climb the stairs onto the walltop, looking out at the horizon, which was stained a bright crimson color. She leaned against the stone railing, taking in the sound of the wind and the smells of the evening. Her back twinged in pain, but she didn’t cry out. It’s a lonely life. But it’s one someone has to live. She looked down at her hands and her arms, blinking a few times as she stared at her skin. In a few weeks, she knew, it could all be over. Everything she had worked on, everything her hands had built, all of the blood that had been lost- it would be for nothing. That sort of thinking was enough to send her into a panic, but, at the same time, she wondered if it was any different than the crisis half a year ago.
Of course it’s different. I’m not just fighting for me now.
Noticing something moving on the path towards the Fortress, the Overlord’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted. She squinted at the person traveling towards them, cloaked and hooded. The staff, though, she recognized. Looking over her shoulder, she yelled at the nearest two Underlings, “Open the gates!” Darting from her position atop the walls, the Overlord rushed towards the traveler, her eyes wide.
“Is that... You?” the Overlord stopped a few yards from the hooded woman, breath caught in her throat. “No way...”
“I heard you were in trouble,” the Sage lowered her hood, shaking her short brown hair. “What did you do this time?”
