Chapter 4: Settling In
Dark Tower: Private Quarters
Sophitia slowly followed her guide, The Overlord, while trying to ignore the mischievous giggling from the two servant girls that were following her. She was having a hard time processing what had just happened, what she had just willingly done. She had just accepted the offer to become the mistress of the Lord of Evil. Not wife, but Mistress. She wasn't quite sure she liked the terminology, the implication that she wasn't much more than a toy. The instant she had a moment alone with The Overlord, away from any prying ears, she planned on having a serious talk with him as to the specifics of what she had just done.
The sound of a door opening drew her attention. Just ahead, The Overlord was holding a door open for her, beckoning with a crooked finger. Suitably curious, she entered the room and was met by the single most lavish setting she had seen in her lifetime. Large stained-glass windows let multi-colored light fall across the entire room, the single most prominent color being a soothing hue of crimson. Just below the windows, a bed that was large enough to comfortably inter five people in sheets the color of the purest clouds. Around the bed, a set of privacy curtains that seemed just a step below completely opaque, somehow managing to seem elegant and, dare she think it, erotic at the same time. On the opposite wall, there was a large table that was set perfectly for tea, as if two people had just vanished in the middle of the first cup. And over everything else, the enchanting aroma of flowers, roses in particular. It was like the chambers of some fairytale princess brought to sudden, vivid life. She pinched herself on the arm just to make sure this wasn't some kind of dream.
Just as she was about to whirl around and express just how blown away she felt, the door softly shut and left her with her mouth hanging open, bringing a stunned question out of her instead of words of praise. "Where exactly is he going?"
One of the serving girls, a young looking girl with a relatively plain face and short, curly brown hair, stepped forward. "The Overlord had to go downstairs for a minuet or two. Gnarl said he had something he wanted to discuss with The Master." The girl looked up at the ceiling and muttered out loud. "I swear by my granny's knickers, that Minion always wants to talk to The Master at the oddest of times."
The other girl, a blond that looked a bit older and a little bit more on the side of pretty, stepped behind the brunette and tapped the younger girl on the head. "Sarah, stop mumbling and go get one of those little Red things."
'Sarah' clutched the top of her head like the tap had actually hurt, "But Heather!"
'Heather' set her hands on her hips; "No buts, hurry up! And don't forget the gloves, don't want to burn yourself." When Sarah was out of the room Heather turned to her. "Sorry about that Milady, her father spoiled her." The other blond answered the question before she could ask it; "The Master asked us to help you get cleaned up while he was discussing whatever it is Gnarl wanted discussed. He'll be right back up afterwards so you can talk…" Heather smiled and a tone of mischief entered her voice; "…or do whatever."
The innuendo was so thick she could have cut it with a knife; if she wasn't so busy trying to suppress a blush as the lewd comment caused an image of the 'act' to flash through her head. "I think that talking will do just fine."
Heather apparently saw the blush, because the smile stayed right where it was. "If you say so Milady." Sarah burst back in with one of the Red Minions clasped between two large mittens. Heather pointed towards the far corner of the room to a large basin that looked to be made out of copper, or bronze. "Drop the little flamer into the coal box under the tub."
Deciding to take the controlled mayhem in stride she started to walk toward the bath while working to peel off her slime encrusted outfit. "Where exactly did The Overlord get all of this? He didn't exactly strike me as the 'flowers and sunshine' type of person."
Sarah took her cloths while Heather gave her a hand up and over the lip of the basin; "Oh, all of this? No, The Overlord didn't pick up any of this stuff on his own. It all used to belong to former Mistress Rose."
She took an educated guess as to the addition of 'former' "I take it they didn't get along very well."
Heather handed her a large brush. "Bloody right they didn't get along. Mistress Rose was always yelling at The Master for one thing or another. I swear the lady was bloody crazy. She'd be looking at you one second, sipping tea like she was made out of ice. And before you'd know it she'd start hollering at the top of her lungs like her hair was on fire. The Master didn't invite her here either; she just sort of barged in."
She found herself laughing at the thought of The Overlord getting yelled at. "I can see how that wouldn't have lasted very long. I assume he kicked her out?"
Heather started giggling, "Oh, The Master did more than just kick Mistress Rose out. He invited her sister, Mistress Velvet, to take the position." The giggling intensified, "In more ways than one."
She was starting to get used to the dirty comments, so this last one didn't bother her as much. "Dumping a woman for her sister, that would never go over well."
Seeming to stay on topic, Heather asked the next question. "Do you have a sister Milady?"
The implication, and joke, was not lost on her. "I do, if she's still alive somewhere. But before you get any funny ideas, she and I look almost exactly alike. Given the same outfit and hairstyle and it would be very difficult to tell us apart."
Heather's hands fell onto her shoulders. "And, is your sister as well developed as you, Milady?"
She whirled around in the bath to face the serving girl. "Isn't that question just a bit too personal?" When there was no response, only a patronizing smirk, she relented, "No."
In the background, seemingly oblivious to the conversation that had just been going on, Sarah called out to her. "Milady, I just thought I'd mention that this outfit of yours is absolutely beautiful!"
Grateful for the change in topic she happily responded. "Thank you Sarah, that's very kind of you to say."
The brunette held the clean outfit up in the light, and gasped. "Oh! I just had the greatest idea ever!" Sarah looked over at her; "Don't you think this would look just lovely in a shade of red? It'd show off those beautiful eyes of yours!"
The image flashed through her head. "Well, I suppose it would. But-"
Sarah squealed with delight, completely ignoring her. "Oh I've got to go get my dyes." She then sprinted out of the room, taking her clothes along for the ride.
Heather let out a long sigh, rubbing her forehead with exasperation. "Damn girl, one of these days…" Then the serving girl looked over at a large wardrobe on the wall. "Don't worry Milady; I'm sure we can find something else that'll fit you before…" A low, heavy, metallic thump off in the distance signaled the start of a countdown until The Overlord arrived.
Dark Tower: Stairs to Private Quarters
The Overlord was taking his sweet time climbing the stairs, and trying to drive the stupid thoughts that Gnarl had brought up for the second time about Mistresses, nic nacs, and varying perverted thoughts. He could almost think that Gnarl had forgotten that he had had Velvet as his mistress for close to a year. He knew how to treat women, in all respects. Speaking of which, there was a woman upstairs that he was supposed to be getting back to. He did have to lead her on a tour around the rest of the Tower. With that in mind he increased his pace by about fifty percent.
As he neared his destination one of the serving girls, possibly Sarah, blew by him with a small bundle of cloth wrapped up in her arms. Could she possibly be trying something unorthodox to get the slug slime out? He knew that it was a huge pain to remove from any fabric; the black mantle around his shoulders a solemn testament to slime abuse. On that topic it really was about time for him to get a new one. Regardless, by now Sophitia would have probably picked out one of Rose's old dresses. Unless of course she was the kind of woman that took an eternity to decide on anything, but up to now he hadn't seen much proof towards that label.
He arrived at the door and knocked twice, without a response, verbal or otherwise. That could mean two things. One, Sophitia was still naked and he shouldn't go in quite yet. Two, she had suffered a paralyzing attack of conscience and had thrown herself out of a window in shame, in which case the remaining servant girl was terrified of what he might do. He shook his head and suppressed the urge to laugh, the things he could think up from time to time.
There was a pronounced rustling of fabric from beyond the door, followed by a tentative invitation. "Ok, you can come in now."
Taking the invitation, he turned the handle on the door and gave it a light shove, allowing momentum to finish the opening process for him. When he did fully enter the room he was forced to squint due to the light shining in from an open window. Before, the red hue had mitigated some of the more intense rays. Not that he was sensitive to bright light; it was just poor timing that the sun happened to be right outside these windows at this particular hour. Following his non-verbal cue, the servant girl still present drew the curtains closed and shut off a good majority of the glare. He nodded to show his thanks before turning his attention towards his new Mistress.
Somehow, out of all the clothing in the room, Sophitia had managed to find Rose's single favorite dress. Cloth the color of fresh cream for the majority of the fabric, offset by deep red for the torso with gold embroidery running through the entire piece. As for the fit, he was forced to grind his teeth together in order to keep from laughing. From the waist down everything looked perfectly fine, with the sole exception of the hem rising above her ankles. That was solely due to Sophitia being a bit taller than Rose, nothing to be done about that. Above the waist was where his mirth threatened to get the better of him. There was no other way he could put it, the dress was just too small, especially in the area of the bodice. If he wanted to give his metaphorical mind a stretch he could say that he could almost hear the fabric crying out in agony.
Sophitia apparently read too far into his analytical gaze. "It looks stupid, doesn't it?"
Before giving any kind of answer he pointed at the serving girl, that he now recognized as Heather, before jabbing his thumb in the direction of the door. If there were a more obvious 'get out' signal he didn't know it.
Once Heather was gone he walked over and flicked a stray strand of hair out of Sophitia's face before answering. "The fit could be better. But otherwise, no, it doesn't look stupid at all."
Before the blond could respond the door burst open and, out of reflex, he had his sword out and pointed directly at the intruder. Sarah was being completely oblivious as usual.
Sarah unrolled a bundle of vibrant red fabric in her arms and looked up. "Milady, just like I said I would…" She trailed off the instant his eyes met hers, before beating a hasty retreat at a slight shooing motion from his left hand. Sophitia picked up the fabric Sarah left behind, and he recognized it as the outfit she had been wearing when she arrived, with the notable differences of being clean and dyed brilliant red.
The blond commented on the color, but it was more of a thought than something that should be responded to. "I will admit; I do like this particular shade. But she could have at least given me some warning before barging off with the only thing I know will fit." Sophitia turned around to him, holding the clean outfit against her. "I'm sorry, but could you turn around for just a moment? This is still just a little bit awkward to me, so…"
He simply shrugged and turned around towards the window, preoccupying himself with studying the intricate patterns of the flowers in the glass. Moments later he heard the rustle of fabric fluttering down through the air. He felt no compulsion to turn around against her wishes, unlike a certain paladin that he had executed; he had a tight rein on his carnal desires. Also, completely out of coincidence, there was a reflection in one of the blue glass panels of the window, so there was no need for him to turn around whatsoever.
Instead of giving him verbal permission to look, Sophitia walked over to him and set a hand on one of his shoulders, fingers splayed between the spikes that grew from the corrupted metal. "Look, can we talk? This Mistress thing, I'm not just going to wind up as one woman out of dozens am I?"
He shrugged, not seeing much of a point in being false. "I can say this much, I have never had the, opportunity to have more than one Mistress. This Tower was mostly destroyed when I acquired it and the Minions only built one bedroom. Not to say that past Overlord's havn't done that. I recall the case of one of my predecessors keeping at least twelve Mistresses."
Sophitia's face betrayed just the slightest tinge of alarm. "I don't suppose you know how they were treated?"
He shook his head in response. "No, the records and journals that are left from that particular Overlord's reign are few and far between. All I know is that he didn't live long enough for that to matter. He was eaten by a giant weasel in the fourth month of his rule." There was a slight pause as he devised a suitable point to his explanation. "I suppose all I can say is that I can't say what I would do if another woman finds her way to this Tower. I just don't think I would be the type to ignore anyone that I care about."
The alarm faded from Sophitia's face and she removed her hand from his shoulder, ignoring the black haze that clung to her flesh for a few moments afterwards. "I can accept that. It's something to hope for anyway." A slight smile touched her lips. "Now, you were going to show me around, right?"
With a slight nod, he opened the door and led his Mistress out with his hand resting in the small of her back.
Dark Tower: Throne Room
Sophitia slowly followed The Overlord along the right side of the Throne Room. The longer she spent around him, the farther she fell, and the farther she fell, the more time she wanted to spend with him. Most people would call that a vicious cycle, but it didn't feel particularly vicious from where she was standing. She knew in some corner of her mind that no sane person fell for anyone this quickly, but for her at least, if she was actually going insane, it would be a release from a terrible existence rather than a condemnation. Who knows, her close contact with Soul Edge for so many years might just have unhinged her mind. While lost in thought, she almost ran into the back of her guide. The Overlord had stopped by a set of stairs leading down, guarded by a Brown minion holding a large axe that gave off the impression of an executioner.
Just when The Overlord seemed about to say something a voice she was quite familiar with by now cried out from the stairs. "Master, your bedchamber is on fire!" Sarah came running into view. "I was cleaning, just like I should have been, and that big head you have hung on your wall scared the bloody daylights out of me. I knocked over one of your candlesticks with the broom. Please forgive me Master!"
She found herself wondering just how many times Sarah had asked The Overlord for forgiveness and how many more would be tolerated. She got the distinct feeling that she already knew the answer, and she admired the amount of self-control it took for The Overlord to overlook as many blunders that she suspected Sarah was responsible for.
She gave The Overlord a nudge towards the stairs. "Go on, I'll get Gnarl to show me around. I don't expect you to let your room burn down while giving me a tour."
The Overlord nodded once to her, then sprinted off directly away from the Private Quarters, down a set of stairs, and appeared only moments later leading a squad of ten Reds up the stairs to the Private Quarters at breakneck speed. A slight smile crossed her face, and she beckoned to Gnarl with a newfound sense of authority.
The old Minion trundled across the distance between them as fast as his short legs could carry him. "Yes Mistress? You have something you would ask of me?"
She didn't exactly like the tone Gnarl was using, it was the kind of lecherous noise that made her feel like she was about to get raped out of nowhere. Regardless, Gnarl would know the Tower as well, if not better than The Overlord. "You are going to show me around in lieu of The Overlord…" She pointed down the stairs behind the executioner Minion; "…Starting down there."
A huge grin spread across Gnarl's face. "Excellent Mistress, the Dungeon is always a good place to start. I'm sure you'll find The Master's collection of victims quite enjoyable."
Already leery of the area due to Gnarl's apparent enthusiasm, she followed the old Minion down the stairs. With every step she took the air grew progressively colder. By the time she could see the bottom she could also see her breath misting the air in front of her. The only light to see by was coming from a few scattered torches, very dim torches. All she could immediately see was a large, circular room with a spike filled pit in the middle. There were glowing craters, one in each corner of the room, and a smaller set of stairs that led to a large, open, sand-filled area that could only be described as an arena.
Gnarl made a wide, sweeping gesture. "Here, all of the creatures and beings that The Overlord has slain are collected. The Tower can create them at will for him to fight, and smite, at his leisure. So far as I can recall, there is not a challenge presented by the Tower that our Lord has not dominated, with or without his Minions." Gnarl turned his gaze back towards her and his eyes acquired a curious gleam. "Come to think of it Mistress, you seem able to handle yourself rather well. You could try out the arena yourself anytime you like."
She was tempted by the offer to prove that she was more than just a girl that needed rescuing, but she highly doubted that the Dungeon would up and leave the Tower so she had all the time in the world for that. "I think I'll pass for now, and I really don't think I need to see any more of this Dungeon until then."
Gnarl looked rather disappointed, and it gave her the sense that she was in control of events for the first time in a long while; "Of course Mistress, as you wish." Gnarl made a 'follow me' gesture and started back up the stairs. "To the Spawning Pits and the Tower Heart. You'll like this one, I think."
Dark Tower: Throne Room
The Overlord took the stairs one at a time, trying to focus on that instead of Sarah so he could avoid punching something, or someone. He was extremely lenient with the servants, but that did not mean he didn't get angry, far from it in fact. Most of them were fine, occasionally forgetting to do something that in no way resulted in a disaster. Sarah on the other hand, was a walking catastrophe. This was mitigated by the knowledge that she never meant for anything to go wrong. Sarah was either just clumsy, like what had just happened with his room, or dense, like the time one of the other servants had told her to try washing the Greens. That incident had almost made him crack up, until he found out that Sarah had almost drowned the Green Hive in an attempt to clean all of them at once. That time he had strung Sarah up by her ankles for a while, until the crying had gotten to him and he let her down. Sometimes he really cursed himself for having the soft spot he did for crying girls, women in peril, and other such heroic stereotypes. It really made it hard for him to keep up his image as an Evil Overlord. Granted he usually made up for it with events of mass slaughter, like Southampton, but little things like his repeated tolerance of Sarah's incompetence got on his nerves. He supposed that, in the big picture, it was good to have a little bit of balance to make sure that his subjects trusted him, but he would rather that his acts of mercy be fully choice based rather than something he did because he couldn't help it.
He arrived in the Throne Room and one of the other servants, another blond and one of his more infamous hirelings, Harriett, walked up to him. "You looking for your Mistress, Sire? Gnarl led her down to the Spawning Pit about five minutes ago."
With a brief nod of thanks he began to move off towards the Spawning Pits. By now Gnarl should have shown Sophitia at least the Dungeon, granted that there really wasn't much to see down there, so when he took over all that was left would be the Forge. There wasn't much to see there either, but that was the entirety of the Dark Tower. Barring the expansions that the Minions had made to the Private Quarters, but those were nothing but empty rooms as of now. Come to think of it, hadn't those expansions been Gnarl's idea in the first place? Regardless, he had never actively searched for a Mistress and wasn't going to start collecting when he already had one. Even though he was called the "Lord of Lust and Lechery."
As he descended the stairs he could hear Gnarl explaining the function of the Tower Heart to Sophitia off in the distance. "This, Mistress, is the Tower Heart, the source of the Tower's power and an almost limitless supply of Evil magic. It also allows our Lord to access the Tower's full resources no matter where he may be." There was a slight pause before Gnarl said something else. "If you are curious, you may touch it if you wish."
He froze mid-stride. Sure his Minions touched the Tower Heart all the time due to their stupidity and fascination with shiny objects. But they were almost as much a product of the Tower Heart as his magic was. Even he had never bothered to physically touch the Tower Heart, as something about the idea just rubbed him the wrong way. The only other time he knew of that something had actually touched the burnished sphere of glass was when Velvet had hit it with a giant rock to free him from the control of the Old Overlord, and even then she had never personally touched it. A nameless concern awoke somewhere within him and he quickened his pace towards the bottom. He arrived perhaps seconds too late to forestall the event, but nothing was immediately happening.
Sophitia turned to look at him, leaving her right hand connected to the floating orb by the tips of all five of her fingers. "There you are, I was wondering when you-"
A storm of blue lightning erupted from the Tower Heart and enveloped Sophitia in a cocoon of brilliance. The raw power of the Tower Heart forcing him to shield his eyes until the storm faded. When the blue light dimmed, Sophitia was still standing and staggering back slowly away from the pulsing orb of glass. He moved just in time to catch his Mistress by the shoulders as she fell backwards against him.
He cradled her head against his knee, and asked the single stupidest question that had ever issued from his mouth. "Are you alright?"
Sophitia still had arcs of raw energy jumping between her fingers, and across the surface of her eyes. "Honestly, I feel just a bit dizzy." A last bolt lanced out from the Tower Heart and struck Sophitia in the forehead, causing her entire body to convulse once before going back to a semblance of serenity. "It just occurred to me, that I have never heard your actual name. Putting aside all of the titles and honorifics, can you tell me?"
He responded with the one word, feeling far too much like he was granting a last request, "Erasmus."
Sophitia smiled up at him, then closed her eyes and went completely limp. He knew that she wasn't dead, as he could still hear both her heartbeat and breathing. She was just unconscious in a rather conspicuous manner. After all, it wasn't every day that you saw an unconscious person with bolts of lightning twining around their body, making it convulse. Lacking any better options, he picked Sophitia up, bridal style, and started to head for the Private Quarters.
Dark Tower: Private Quarters: Two weeks later
Sophitia shot up with a jolt like she had been struck by lightning, which made some measure of sense because that was among the last things she remembered. It had seemed so innocuous, just touching the giant orb that provided all the Evil magic that The Overlord could ever need. It never even crossed her mind that the Tower Heart would react at all, let alone as violently as it did. The word pain came to mind, but that word did not accurately portray what she had felt. Just, sensation, no one specific feeling summed it all up. In a way, it reminded her of what she felt when touching, or being touched by The Overlord. That was when a memory came to her, just before her world had turned black. She had asked for The Overlord's real name, and he had given it to her, Erasmus.
Before she could start to think about anything more, with regards to The Overlord's real name, she heard a door open and a familiar gasp follow immediately afterwards. Sarah rushed into her field of vision and sat next to her on the bed, where she just realized she was. "Oh, Milady, it's so good to finally see you awake. We were starting to think you'd never get better."
Something about the pitch and tempo of Sarah's voice was giving her a headache. "Slow down, and explain to me what's going on. What do you mean you thought I would never get better?"
Sarah did start to explain, but at the same speed, exacerbating the already present headache. "After you touched the Tower Heart The Overlord brought you up here. That was two weeks ago."
Between her throbbing head and the influx of information she was having a hard time wrapping her mind around the unfolding events. "Two weeks? I've been unconscious that long?"
Sarah started to look uncomfortable. "There is that, and something else." The brunette shook her head. "I'm sorry Milady but it's not something I can explain. You're going to have to see it for yourself. The mirror is right over there."
The implication was that something about her had changed physically. But as her hands traced their way across her own body she could not find the slightest bit of difference. Left with no other recourse, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked over to the full-length mirror. At first, it was as it was with her hands, and she could see no change, but as her eyes traveled up to the reflection of her face, no words that she could think of even came close to illustrating her state of mind. The irises of her eyes, formerly a deep, soothing blue, were now the angry red of fresh blood. The white part of her eyes, was no longer white, rather it was now a black so deep that not a single mote of light reflected off the surface. It was like the Tower Heart had plucked the eyes from her skull and replaced them with two orbs of raw Evil. For the first time in a long while, her infatuation with Erasmus was the last thing on her mind. Even though there was a soothing voice inside her head telling her that The Overlord would still approve, she wasn't listening to it.
Her fingers slowly drew up to her face, and lightly prodded the corners of each eye. Her reaction was completely normal, and it was slightly calming to reach the conclusion that the change was merely cosmetic. But, there was still symbolism in the change, and she knew it. Now, for better or worse, there was no going back to the life she had had before. She felt it in her very core that she carried almost as much Evil with her as Erasmus did. In a way, it was like being reborn. A dark, new life was awaiting her acceptance. It was funny in an odd way, she was still herself; the same morals, almost all the same convictions, the same mind. The only glaring difference was her side in the eternal struggle of Good vs. Evil. She was throwing her lot in with Evil, and this time it was by choice.