Yes my friends the next chapter has arrived. Once again all gratitude for the story goes to Sunjinjo on Deviantart. Does not claim Overlord but does claim the OCs.
Chapter 5 – Into the Unknown
As Jinx descended to the smooth throne room floor she immediately ran over to Gnarl, a stream of swearing flowing from her mouth. "You! You wouldn´t defend me, would you! Now they´re off to that island and I´m left here and they´ll have all kinds of adventures…"
Gnarl groaned and gripped his ears tightly. Only then did Jinx realize there was someone else yelling at him as well.
On the other side of the throne, Kelda was standing, and her green eyes nearly glowed with fury.
"You let him sail away! Without giving him so much as five minutes to attend me to it! One night - one night, Gnarl! And now he's gone for the gods know how long…"
Gnarl silently pulled his ears behind his head and tied them together. Then he turned around and disappeared down a corridor, to descend from there to the lower levels of the Tower. Kelda stared after him for a moment, the utmost surprise merged with her fury.
Then she looked at Jinx. Jinx looked back.
As if they´d planned it, they fell into each other's arms, crying their eyes out.
Atop his high harp, his clawed feet dangling in front of the strings and deep in thought about a new composition, Quaver looked up. "Ah, women," he sighed with compassionate incomprehension.
The sea!
Sayron raised his head, enjoying the freezing wind he knew so well, but still slightly different – he could just smell the adventure. He felt a little bit of regret about leaving Kelda behind like that, but such was his life. He was an Overlord! He was made to experience everything the world could throw at him!
The eight oars ploughed through the waves and the sail creaked in the wind while the ship took them out of the frosty fjords. Sayron looked back and grinned while beholding the huge plume of black smoke rising from Nordhaven. If things went well, the tar pits would never stop burning again!
He looked forward again. Everywhere around the ship, ice flows drifted along, but they were already melting thanks to the warmer water the river now poured into the sea.
And there was the horizon, just like that. A rare sight around Nordberg, where most of the time it snowed so fiercely you couldn´t see your own nose, and in most other cases you would be in the middle of a forest. But now, there it was, all around him and completely visible.
"Bring me that horizon," Sayron whispered, not sure where he´d heard those words before. He turned the wheel and felt the ship reacting. He grinned and did it again, with more force this time.
Two seconds later he scrambled back to his feet and decided to be gentler from now on.
From the rigging, a Minion´s voice sounded. "Black-white fish!" he called out. "There!"
Minions didn´t see the use of left or right, and they wouldn´t bother with port and starboard either. Sayron followed the pointing claw. Indeed, in the distance a large black and white fin was charging at them… he gripped his axe.
Half a minute later a gigantic fish-shaped creature jumped from the water, right next to the ship. The killer whale was six meters long, possessed three rows of teeth and had such a thick layer of blubber that even Sayron´s axe wouldn´t have dealt much damage.
But it didn´t matter. The browns had already recognized the twinkle in the eyes of the largest predator of the polar seas, and the five others of its kin swimming in from open sea, attracted by the promise of blood and dark magic possessed that twinkle as well.
They already had found friends with the wolves of the sea.
"Baby seals, here we come," Sayron grinned.
Balance was both of great importance and extremely difficult. She wished she´d brought one of the Minions along.
But Jinx was part of the Netherworld now, so she could control the floating rock by herself. And as neither Kelda nor Gnarl had wanted to come along – both busy treating wounds of their own – she indeed had to do it by herself.
"I´d see Mortis with that," Kelda´d said as she wiped away her tears and nodded to Jinx´ arm. "I always let that sort of thing heal on its own, but it´s useless to walk around with it while there´s a healer close by."
And so she was on her way to where it´d all started: Mortis´ corner of the Netherworld, next to the subterranean river.
Eventually, after a great deal of wobbly trouble, she managed to dock the rock at the spot she´d departed in the Minion´s clutches a few days earlier, jumping off as soon as she could just in case it´d depart again immediately. It didn´t.
She stared at it, with the faint feeling the rock was staring back at her. "Oh, so now you´re suddenly cooperating, eh?" She sighed and turned. Ranting to herself she stomped through the confusing labyrinth of plateaus and hanging bridges to where she thought the river was.
The weird thing was, her wound didn´t hurt anymore. She´d expected the pain to grow worse as her arm warmed and she regained her feeling, but instead it just was a faint pounding.
Still, she was reluctant to untie the cloth to see where all the blood was coming from.
After some time floating around amidst Minions she didn´t know – all familiar faces were away with Sayron – she was suddenly looking out over the river, foaming and roaring like she´d just been pulled out again. Right next to the stream, a large stalagmite rose to a height of nearly twenty meters, the base sporting a small door. Also, there was a stone well nearby. Jinx wondered why, because you could just get water from the river, wasn´t it? With a bucket on a very strong rope, that was.
She uncertainly approached the door, bent over and knocked.
After a moment or two she heard a complaining voice with a familiar gurgling undertone. A while after that, Mortis opened.
Jinx had become used to browns and reds by now, and she jolted slightly at seeing the blue Minion again. Mortis was very different from the rest. His head seemed larger and rounder, and his webbed ears continued all the way down to his chin. His hands and feet were webbed as well, and a strong tail protruded from his cloak.
"Yes?" he said, looking at her near-sightedly with round frog´s eyes. "What more do you want of me, air-breather?"
"Uh. I´d like you to heal this, please," Jinx said, slightly baffled and very aware of being polite to a Minion. She outstretched her arm.
"I need bare skin," Mortis said.
Jinx grimaced and reluctantly began winding the fabrics off her arm. She untied Kniff´s shred of cloak and carefully put the bloodied cloth in her pocket. Then she took off her vest and pulled the sleeve from her arm.
The wound had healed.
Jinx stared at it for a while. "Wow! That´s amazing, Mortis! Thank you!"
Mortis expressionlessly looked at her arm for a moment, his webbed hand raised like he was about to place it where the wound had been. Then he nodded silently. He was about to disappear inside his stalagmite again, but Jinx stopped him. "Wait a minute. I heard you healed my broken leg when I –"
Mortis turned back. A joyless smile stretched his rubbery face. "Oh, more than that. You were dead when I fished you from the water, air-breather. The river had taken your life."
Jinx froze. She stared into Mortis´ glassy eyes, not sure if she´d understood his words.
"Do not be so surprised. We blues are not just healers. Mainly I am more of a resurrected." Mortis clicked his fingers, and there, in a whirl of blue sparks, was a collection of small bones. "That is my task here in the Netherworld. When fighters fall and the Master wishes to have their skill and experience back, I can take care of that."
The thought of Rasp and Nails battled her confusion and shock with the recent revelation. Dead? Her?
"Only when the Master wishes so," Mortis added as if he´d read her mind. He chuckled. "Do not have any illusions about that, air-breather. To the Netherworld, you are barely a Minion."
"You´re not a Minion."
Jinx excitedly ran beneath the spiky crown towards the throne. Oh, if only Gnarl had some experience with knots…
It had all started that morning as she – after having conquered her fear and walked from her barrack to solid rock across the narrow bridge – ran into Parch and started ranting to him about how unfair it all was. The red Minion was one of the few familiar faces still present in the Netherworld, and he´d been a welcome listener. Jinx had lowered herself against a boulder and had complained: "What do Minions have what I haven´t, Parch?"
And then she´d remembered.
"You´re not a Minion. You don´t heal as quickly as they do. You´re not as tough as them. I believe you´re brave, but you´re fragile. You´re not cut out for the battlefield."
"…Oh… we´ll see about that," she´d muttered softly. Then she´d looked up into Parch´s glittering eyes.
"Teach me to climb like you do, Parch."
And so now she was running through the throne room towards Gnarl´s chosen spot with a long rope trailing behind her. She had gone to see Mortis about it first, but he´d looked at her and said: "I tie ropes for my nets in a way they´ll never come loose again. Do you really want that for your purpose?"
And then there remained only one.
She ran past the mist pool – a quick glance told her Sayron was standing at the helm alone, on a calm ocean – and stopped next to Gnarl. She fumbled with her rope.
The elder Minion didn´t react to her, but he did so in a very conscious way. He continued studying the huge sea chart he´d unrolled next to him.
"Please, Gnarl."
He stubbornly continued staring at the chart.
"I need some advice. You´re the only one in this Tower capable of helping me right now."
"Oh, all of a sudden?"
"Yes!"
"Hmm." Gnarl turned to face her. "With what, may I ask?"
Jinx stuck out the rope to him. "I´d really like to have a knot with which I´ll get some kind of lasso."
"And why do you think I could have knowledge of such a thing?"
Jinx silently nodded towards the mist pool. Sayron hadn´t sailed before, but he didn´t seem to have any kind of trouble. "You´re the only one capable of helping him with his ropes." She bent over the surface of the pool. "Isn´t that right, Lord?"
Sayron looked up. "What?"
"Nothing, nothing," Gnarl quickly called out. "Oh, all right! Yes, I know about knots, that´s what you get if you have to rebuild the entire tower every time a new Overlord arrives. Every single time the previous one departs the entire domain gets wrecked, which is one of the reasons the Netherworld is hidden so well."
"I got in," Jinx remarked.
"Yes, and that might just be a greater disaster than all Seven Heroes put together," Gnarl snapped while yanking the rope from her hands. "A square knot it is." His long fingers danced around the rope in intricate manoeuvres, seemingly going right through each other several times over. Eventually, he handed it back. A strong loop had been formed. "Try this one on anything protruding. It´ll close like a bear trap."
Jinx looked about her. Her gaze lingered on a spot on the ceiling. That didn´t mean her eyes remained still.
Gnarl followed her gaze. He opened his mouth to discourage her, but shut it again, with a hint of a sly smile.
Jinx whirled the rope above her head and towards her goal. The square knot got yanked shut, the rope tightened and Jinx was lifted off the ground. She yelped with surprise, but then let herself be dragged along, dangling from one of the spikes of the crown portal, laughing like an idiot. The knot was strong enough to hold her weight, and to keep holding it.
"Gnarl! Aren´t you exaggerating a bit with the strength of this thing?"
"Not for the purpose I think you have in mind with it," the advisor answered.
The seas were no longer calm, but that was their own fault.
Hoarse chuckled while dropping another fireball from his fist into the gaping hole beneath him. A gust of humid, salty air rushed up and he backed away for a moment, but he knew the enormous beast wouldn´t harm him.
Then he looked back, towards the ship which seemed so small, tied to the gigantic aspidochelone like that.
The turtle had managed to lure many preys by acting like an island, but Sayron had seen through its disguise even before coming ashore. The seas had been warming up the last couple of weeks and the killer whales had left them days ago, but Everlight wasn´t supposed to appear on the horizon yet. The Master had known perfectly well this was no real island. They´d overpowered the sea monster and tied the ship with a great lot of rope to a spike on its shield. And to be sure the beast kept going with a good speed and in the right direction, Sayron had put him, Hoarse, and some other reds on the head… at the nostrils.
Who needed a fair wind when being an Overlord?
"You don´t heal as quickly as they do."
Oh, what fun it´d be if she was right.
Jinx stretched in the entrance to her barrack, with an experienced movement threw her right rope around the short pole she´d hammered in the rock on the other side of the bridge, pulled tight and let herself fly. In the air, she threw out her left rope around a protrusion in the rock face, and with both ropes pulled tight she walked right up the vertical wall and pulled herself up. She´d left her barrack this way every morning for the past few weeks, and every morning she got better.
Once on solid rock, she sprinted to the first bridge in the direction of the river, grabbed both poles on the other side with her ropes and flew across the bridge with her stomach inches from the rough wood. She landed crouched on her feet. And grinned.
She was faster than Nails had been. And she got faster every day.
She walked the rest of the way, her ropes slung around her shoulders. If she didn´t, she had the risk of accidentally hanging Minions or knocking them unconscious. Her horde members greeted her as she passed, and she greeted them back, occasionally head butting them or trying to scythe their legs away. Jinx was completely integrated into the Netherworld.
As she reached the river, Mortis was already outside, busy stirring the water with a long stick. As she approached him he turned holding a net full of big-eyed, exceptionally slimy fish. Jinx wasn´t disgusted in any way – she knew the fish looked far tastier when roasted, and they were. As were carcass rats and mushrooms, by the way. Those wusses up in the outside world were completely wrong on them, especially those of the Empire with their quails and stuffed dormice, yuck!
"Climber," Mortis greeted her. He still didn´t call her by her name, but he did with no one and this was better than ´air-breather´, which Jinx suspected to be an insult. "What brings you to the Well? Convinced you can command me today?"
"No, Mortis," Jinx answered. She sighed. She´d given up trying to get him to resurrect Rasp, Nails and the others. She´d seen her dead horde members, floating around inside the Well. It wasn´t to bring up water, but souls. Sometimes one of them came up and floated around on the air. Jinx always found it eerie and unpleasant to see the lively Minions like this, deaf and blind to the world and just as solid as mist.
Mortis, however, only obeyed Sayron. Only when he got back, so would the dead Minions. Jinx had some talking to do to the Overlord when he got back.
She looked the resurrected in the round frog´s eyes. "I think you´ve been hiding something from me."
"Ah." Mortis averted his eyes for a moment. "That."
"So…?"
"I wanted to heal you, the day you got back from Nordhaven. I had the magic at the ready. But you were already healed. You had done it yourself."
"You´re kidding me." Jinx grinned broadly and pulled her dagger from her belt. "I only needed your confirmation. So if I just concentrate hard enough, and I did with the last wound, it was the very reason I´m stuck here…" She pulled the knife across her arm. Her grin didn´t falter, though it did stiffen a bit as she clenched her teeth. Blood came rising and the drops traced red trails down her arm. She continued staring at the cut intently.
The drops reached the underside of her arm, but they didn´t fall off. The stream had stopped.
Then, the edges of the cut pulled together a bit. The wound still hurt and certainly wasn´t healed, but it had faded a little – maybe the result of two or three days in wrapping.
Jinx was ashen, but still grinning.
"Exceptional, Climber," Mortis said. "Exceptional."
Jinx turned and raised a hand. "I´m going to be good at this, Swimmer!"
The being dragged along by the aspidochelone had only lasted a few days, what with the Minions falling off and the incredible seasickness. The beast had done exactly what was wanted of it – it had been swimming fast. Sayron kept telling himself that was the only reason the turtle had come out of it alive.
Now, the Overlord wished the rope at the bow was still pulled taut. Something had appeared on the horizon and it interested him greatly.
It was a red sail with a golden sun on it. The emblem that´d been fluttering all over Nordberg for the past thirteen years… the emblem he hated. Emperor Solarius´ banner.
There, on their heading, was a huge Empire galleon, apparently on its way to Everlight just like them.
They´d been sailing for three weeks now, and the seas had become warmer. The Minions – aquaphobes at heart, every single one of them – actually dared letting their feet dangle in the water now and then, when they´d been relieved of rowing duty. The furious storms of Nordhaven had made way for trustworthy winds they could catch with the sails, so rowing was of diminishing importance as well. Sayron hadn´t known what was happening to him the first few days, being born and bred in Nordberg. But by now he´d become used to it and the life at sea was pretty much routine. He still missed Kelda, but they spoke over the mist pool. Gnarl made sure he kept the right course with the help of his sea charts, the people of Nordhaven had involuntarily supplied them with enough food to keep them going for months and even without the turtle they held a steady speed with sail and oar.
Even enough to eventually catch up with the galleon. He hoped.
Sayron tightened the grip on both the wheel and his axe. He wanted to catch up with that ship.
He turned to a Minion in the rigging behind him and recognized Kniff, the rebel with the tuque hat. He´d started to like that Minion. "Kniff, tell the Minions below that Stripe´s to take the two front oars with another Minion on each of them, okay? And have Stripe direct the pace from now on."
"Yea, Master," Kniff nodded and let himself fall directly below deck. A short while later Sayron could just feel the slight acceleration. He also heard Stripe's rasping voice yell directions concerning the pace. Long ago, the Overlord had discovered it was very useful to let the Minions, in fact, be commanded by Minions. Of course, they listened to and obeyed his every word, but Minion leaders really spoke their language. So he let Stripe direct the pace, instead of using the drum – which was probably introduced on the Nordbergian ships by the Empire.
Ah, yes. Now they started catching up with the red-sailed ship.
Half an hour later the galleon lay right in front of their noses, and dozens of glistening spears were pretty much stuck up their noses. The ship was well defended, something Sayron had been expecting. He calmly let his gaze travel along the length of the ship. It was defended, but not as well as it should have been. The Empire'd grown lazy, not counting on risks anymore. Such powers were just asking to be overthrown.
"W-who are you and what are your intentions?" their leader called at him, clearly startled by Sayron's appearance, and that of his Minions. It was a skinny man with a red-plumed helmet and a sunburned face. He was casting nervous glances at Stripe, who was just coming on deck and gave him a big grin with lots of teeth while righting his own helmet. "Identify yourself!"
Of course. Maybe Marius had made it out of Nordberg, but these men had been out at sea before anyone had ever heard of him. Sayron laid an armoured hand on the rail of his own ship. "My name is Lord Sayron of the Netherworld," he spoke without raising his voice – it wasn't necessary for him. "And I'm here to bring the Empire a message."
"What kind of message?" the commander called back.
"This message," Sayron said calmly, and flicked his wrist at the galleon. The jewel traced a lighting trail through the clear ocean air, the Minions cheered with joy and a wave of chaos jumped over between the ships.
The soldiers who'd been sent to defend this galleon hadn't expected to actually need their weapons. The sea routes to Everlight were safe and free of pirates. Everlight was a sanctuary, not a trading harbour. The route trailed between the reefs, so even the large sea monsters were no threat. They'd considered themselves lucky to escape from the heavy training the centurions were putting them through, back at the Empire – during this voyage they'd done little more than fishing and sunbathing.
And now, suddenly, this.
The Minions were in top shape. No longer troubled by the extra clothing they'd needed around Nordberg, strong thanks to the continuous rowing and enthusiastic because of the first fight in weeks they threw themselves onto the galleon with the force of a tsunami. They might not have the help of the wolves, but that didn't diminish their spirit. Several reds flung themselves into the rigging and aimed for the soldiers from there, often throwing several fireballs at once. Stripe had gathered himself a private pile of bodies and threatened the bravest men from atop it.
As with all things fun, this fight was over way too soon. There simply weren't enough soldiers. The Empire had truly become lazy.
Now that the screaming and the clash of battle had died down, Sayron could hear another sound. He grinned. He liked that sound. It was the sound of people in terror. He turned and started moving towards the voices. On their way across the enormous deck, there were the running footsteps of the crew, rapidly trying to hide. Some of them weren't fast enough or just stupid enough to climb up into the rigging, where the reds awaited them. Sayron let the Minions decide their fate. One terrified man, reeling in a sail rope while mumbling like an idiot, he simply shoved aside and strode on.
They reached the back of the deck. The Overlord looked about him in surprise – it was teeming with lounging chairs and small tables. Why would you put those on the deck of a galleon?
A single, bloated man with far too little clothing for Sayron's liking was lying on one of the chairs, fast asleep with a cloth over his face. The Overlord raised the cloth. The man continued snoring.
Gloob came standing with them and poked the man's lard. "Wake up," he chittered. "Too late for running, blubberguts!" He poked again, a sharp jab this time. The man squealed and dazedly opened his eyes. He gave a muffled squeak as he saw Sayron bent over him.
"W-what's happening?" he stammered. "Where is everybody?"
"They ran off to a place they thought safe," Sayron answered. He winked and raised his axe.
Gnarl chose that moment to call out. "Wait a minute, Sire!"
"Gnarl? Where were you all this time?"
Back at the Tower, the advisor grimaced. He'd spent all morning having the throne room fixed after Jinx and Kelda had come barging in, returning from a hunt in Nordberg together with a gigantic live polar bear, trying with all its might to free itself from all of the nets, ropes and throwing hooks wrapped around its paws and snout. The bear had been dragged off to the private quarters where Kelda was now turning it into a nice carpet, but it was only now that Gnarl had clear sight of the mist pool again. "...You wouldn't believe me, Sire." He coughed. "But let that bloated sack of wine live for a moment. I've got a suspicion it could be useful. Instead of your axe, maybe you could use your gauntlet, hmm?"
Sayron laid his weapon on his shoulder. The man followed the huge jagged blade with wide eyes and fast breathing. Then his eyes shot to the Overlord's hand, gradually squinting, for Sayron was bringing his finger to the man's forehead. "Yes, Gnarl," he spoke. "That's a good idea indeed."
The blue lightning ignited around his gauntlet, but instead of jolting, smoking and dying the fat man reacted differently altogether. His eyes didn't flash as the deadly energy shot out of them, but slowly rolled upwards. For a brief moment he became entirely limp as the magic took hold of him, then he seemed to come back to life again.
"I'm your devoted slave, Master," he mumbled.
Sayron laughed softly. He hadn't used this spell that often yet. Actually, the sole time he had was when he was proving himself as the next Overlord. Back then he had forced some Nordbergians to submit themselves to him, but he assumed they'd been killed by their fellow townsfolk the very same day. Humans were that merciful sometimes.
It really did feel good to dominate Empire people. "Gnarl, you're right. This is going to be fun." He watched as the fat man stood from his chair and came standing behind him. The Minions reluctantly parted to let him do so.
"It certainly is," the advisor agreed. The elder Minion laughed for a moment. "I have the idea there are some more potential slaves waiting for you behind those doors, Master."
They were.
The doors in the towering aft castle lead to a broad corridor, completely lined with gleaming wood, beautiful carvings and luxuriant red carpets. On both sides, there was a door every couple of yards. From behind the doors sounded fearful voices and soft whimpering. This ship was carrying passengers.
Sayron kicked in the first door. There, a corpulent couple was waiting for him, fearfully holding each other and trying to hide in a corner of the beautifully furbished room, just below a large porthole. They tried to push their fat a little further into the wall as the Overlord approached them.
"B-back, demon," the man stammered. "This ship is well protected and the captain won't let you..."
"Oh, I do think so," Sayron chuckled. He raised his hand and let the blue lightning fly in two directions at once. Before long, the two had joined his horde.
He could just hear how Gnarl, back at the Tower, rubbed his hands together in glee. Sayron stepped through the corridor wearing a large grin and pointed at the next door. "Break it."
The Minions started running already, but he raised his hand. "Not you. You."
The three Empire citizens stepped forward and started beating at the door with their fists and feet.
Sayron threw back his head and laughed.
A while later all doors in the aft castle were wrecked, as were the rooms behind them. Sayron had looted everything he thought useful or pretty, and his horde not only consisted of twenty Minions but also of quite a lot of civilians from the Glorious Empire. The Overlord amused himself for a while by giving them all kinds of weird commands and let them fight each other – something especially appreciated by the Minions. Half an hour later however, some new figures came towards them through the corridor there'd been earlier.
The one at the front was wearing a dark, oiled overcoat, covered with a magnificently embroidered sash around his shoulders. That had to be the captain. His teeth were clenched as he strode closer in front of his remaining crew. He opened his mouth to speak up, but Sayron beat him to it. "You want to know who I am and what I've done to your soldiers, passengers and most of your crew?"
The captain nodded while most colour drained from his face. However, he stayed where he was. Sayron caught himself slightly impressed.
"I've killed them or submitted them to my will," the Overlord smiled. "And you have to consider yourself lucky I answer with the truth instead of my axe."
"Release them," the captain spoke with a surprisingly steady voice.
"No," Sayron answered calmly. "They're mine now."
One of the crew members behind the captain laid a hand on his superior's shoulder. "Captain, can't we..."
"No," the captain spoke, shaking off the hand. He kept looking at Sayron, still deathly pale with fear but determined nonetheless. "I won't abandon my ship and passengers."
Much later, Sayron would still think of that day, and even as he sent his Minions running towards the men and the captain's blood splattered his axe he was full of surprise – and maybe even a bit of admiration – with the determination the captain had displayed.
He carefully untied the magnificent sash from the man's shoulders. Behind him, the passengers were looking on without emotion. For a moment he held the cloth in front of him, then he untied the red, fur-lined cape off his own shoulders and laid it over the captain. Then he tied the sash around himself, turned away from the corridor and stepped out on the deck.
Having such a bond with your people... being prepared to fight for them... would it have its advantages? He briefly looked back at his Minions and recalled how Gnarl had reconstructed the journey of Jinx and Kniff through Nordberg.
Maybe. Maybe not. It wasn't him lying dead in a wrecked aft castle.
After having resupplied their food storage with the galleon's, he left the passengers with the command to navigate the ship back to the Empire. They could have a good laugh about it.
"You're not as tough as them."
"Who's the strongest Minion here now that's Stripe's gone, Gnarl?"
Gnarl looked up. He wasn't surprised to see Jinx hanging upside down above his head, her ropes firmly tied around two stalactites above the throne. "Don't even think about sitting on it," he said calmly. "And good morning."
"Morning, Gnarl." Jinx let herself fall in front of the seat of power. The Minions kept the cushions free of dust, but if the throne had had a voice, it'd have been calling for its rightful inhabitant. Sayron was gone for two months now. "I repeat my question."
"No, you don't."
Jinx blew. "Word games. You're just as bad as Quaver." She grinned at a corner of the hall. "No offense."
"None taken," Quaver grinned back. He pondered for a moment. Then, plucking the strings of his harp with his feet, he muttered:
"Many ships the Empire has,
They're docked in every harbour and their captains had no fear
But none of them is really able
To resist Lord Sayron, world's darkest buccaneer..."
In the meantime Gnarl pointed at the exit of the throne room, where the jutting platform stuck out into the void and the floating rock was docked. "The strongest Minion of them all isn't here or at the barracks. He's hanging around in the forge. You can't miss him. He's the second oldest Minion in here."
"Who's the oldest then?" Jinx saw his face and laughed. "Something tells me I've got to fly to the forge fast. Ta!"
Gnarl grumbled as she went off, half running and half grasping everything protruding with her ropes. "Sire, sometimes I wish you hadn't found that harp..."
Jinx was already sitting crouched on the floating rock, her head down. She'd discovered it went its fastest this way. To slow down, you just had to stand up. With most Minions the thing was quick as lightning.
She was aiming for a place she'd never been to before – the lower regions of the Netherworld. The caves there were red-hot with lava. It was the place where unusable pieces of armour and weaponry were turned into things the Minions could use, and also where Sayron's new armour and weapons were forged. Jinx knew there was a forge there, but she was already practicing with Parch above the lava flow at least once a week and she didn't need any more heat.
By now she'd also changed her clothing. The seal furs now hung from the walls of her barrack, she didn't need them anymore – except when she went out hunting in Nordberg with Kelda, something she did frequently. But here in the Netherworld there was a new, brown shirt fluttering in the hot air, as was a red sash tied around her waist which she'd nicked from one of the collections of the Tower. And instead of shoes she'd wrapped a thick cloth around her feet. Those made her noiseless on the stone floors of the Tower. On a fine day, Jinx had climbed the outside of the Tower to the private quarters to see what they looked like now. She'd made it, and no one had heard her, but as Kelda saw her when she looked up from one of the many books that were stored there she'd smiled broadly and asked what had taken her so long.
Gnarl might disapprove, but she was now authorised to be upstairs. It had been a fine day indeed.
The last part of her new outfit consisted of a red cloth tied around her head. She'd carefully washed all of her own blood from the shred of cloak Kniff had torn from his, and had taken it with her ever since. She couldn't use any loose hair right now – any distraction could be lethal when working with the ropes.
On top of that, she missed Kniff immensely. The other Minions were nice enough, but Kniff...
She looked forward. She was busy ticking off a list. Maybe she'd meet him again soon.
The rock swooped further down, into the real scorching heat. She was surprised a brown Minion worked in the forge – normally those shied away from fire.
As the rock docked she could hear a steady beating above the roar of the lava, like hammer blows.
It was hammer blows.
Jinx descended down a broad flight of stairs, shielding her eyes as she did so. Everything was quivering in a haze of blazing heat. But there, hammering out a piece of brilliantly shining metal on an anvil five times his height, was a brown Minion equipped with a steel welding mask, thick gloves and a leather breast plate. His hammer was huge, certainly for a Minion.
More Minions were scurrying about, both red and brown. The reds were running between two enormous pits where the lava flowed down and kept the heart of the forge going. The browns were busy with less fiery tasks. But it was clear who it was Gnarl had spoken of.
Jinx slowly approached the anvil. The brown Minion kept on hammering. "I'm sorry," she shouted above the noise. "I need to talk to you!"
The Minion continued beating the metal. Jinx glanced at his work. It was a sword, a rough version of a gargantuan blade. It was long, jagged and very pointy and there was no doubt of who was going to wield it. Jinx caught herself admiring it. There were faint traces of snarling horrors at the base of the blade, and this sword was clearly going to be a real gem when it would be finished, more than worthy of replacing the axe Sayron was now working with.
Being this close, she could really see how large this Minion was. She found it hard to believe, but this one was bigger and stronger than Stripe. Not many Minions were wiry, but this one was truly muscular. Now she knew what Sayron had meant when he said she wasn't as tough as a Minion...
He raised his mask, lifting it on top of his head. His eyes were gleaming yellowy brown. "What?" he shouted.
"I need to talk to you," Jinx repeated.
"What for?"
"I want –" She hesitated. "This won't do," she said to herself, inaudible to the Minion. She stepped behind the anvil and dragged him off his platform. He might be the largest Minion she'd ever laid eyes on, but he was still smaller than she was.
The next instant, the entire world exploded into the void, starting at the back of her head.
When she was able to see something again, it was two yellowy brown eyes full of shame. Jinx focused and made out the rest of the Minion. The world around her was quiet, however that might just be her being deaf after the incredible noise in the forge.
"I'm sorry," the Minion spoke. Ah, not deaf, then.
"For what?"
"He whacked you in the back of the head," another voice sounded, with considerably more than just a hint of evil glee. Gnarl stepped into her view. "I'm surprised you're still alive. Most whacked into the back of the head by Giblet won't do anything more interesting than drool, in the best case."
"Ah. Thank you for that piece of information," Jinx said, glaring at the advisor angrily. Gnarl chuckled darkly.
Giblet shifted his feet. "Gnarl says you want to learn from me…"
Jinx returned her attention to the forger. She was surprised by his calmness. She'd seen Stripe in action and she'd heard how he'd raged during the fight on the Empire galleon, and Giblet was bigger and stronger still. But he seemed friendly and even a bit passive. "Yes, I'd really like to. I'd like you to teach me how to fight, Giblet."
"Giblet hasn't fought in years, except with his apprentices," Gnarl spoke up. "And aren't you quite skilled already, Jinx?"
"I'm whacking around a lot at the barracks, yes, but I keep on losing," Jinx reluctantly admitted. "I'll never be able to claim a spot in the horde if I..."
"I understand," Giblet nodded.
Gnarl turned to face him. "Are you sure, Giblet?"
He nodded again.
Gnarl exchanged a glance with Jinx and the two of them distanced themselves from Giblet a bit. "This is unique," Gnarl muttered as soon as they were out of range for the large Minion to hear. "You have to know, Giblet has turned away from the outside world and the fighting as he became forge master. He was spawned shortly after we lost Lord Alcazar – sadly chopped to pieces by the Seven Heroes. After that, he served Lord Vessperion, the current Master's father. He helped retrieve the old Tower Heart – which we've unfortunately lost again – and then it became clear he was the one destined to bring the old forge to life again. He never looked back and he never fought again. Until now. Be a bit careful with him."
"Me? With him?"
Gnarl nodded. He seemed to be serious. "He's the toughest we've got, but I always suspected there was a reason behind his dedication to the Netherworld. Even I would return to fight if..."
"...if only you were a couple of centuries younger, yes."
Gnarl cast a sideways glare at Jinx, his eyes narrowed to glowing slits. "One of these days, lady, I'm going to suspend you in oil, have you dried with sandpaper, put in my Iron Maiden and have the thing thrown off the stairs from the private quarters."
Jinx grinned. "Already looking forward to it."
Two days later, she was still in her barrack, every couple of hours sending a painful surge of healing magic to her broken arm, splintered kneecap, strained neck, swollen ankle and bumped skull, all thanks to Giblet. She refused Mortis' help, because she could now tick two things off her list at once.
Two weeks after, she managed to pry Giblet off her back for the first time, flinging him against the throne room wall by his leg, ruining a magnificently carved dragon's head. Gnarl was furious, but she was too cheerful to notice.
A week after that, she had to let Kelda go out hunting by herself considering Giblet had hit her on the head so hard she'd become temporarily half-blind. Parch came to visit her sometimes, regretting the fact she was now wounded so often she could barely practice above the lava flow anymore.
As her vision was restored three days later, she managed to grab Giblet at his throat with one of her ropes, which she wasn't supposed to bring but had done so anyway. But the Minion laughed and said his kind never played fair either. However, she did leave the ropes from then on.
The next time they fought, she jumped over him, grabbed his feet and wiped the entire throne room with him until he turned around and broke three of her toes with his hammer. She didn't let go, but jumped head over heels with a salto which surprised her more than Giblet. She managed to whack his head into a pillar. After that, the forge master didn't move anymore. She pulled him towards her and noticed the front of his helmet was dented inwards so far she could barely get it off his head. This time, it was Giblet who needed healing.
As she, two weeks after that, removed a couple of his teeth with one blow and the blood came trickling down his chin, Giblet cancelled the training.
Jinx looked at him, the familiar adrenalin coursing through her entire body. "But we're just starting!"
"Jinx..." Giblet said, futilely trying to wipe the blood from his mouth, "...not much left to teach you."
"Not much?" she asked, incredulously.
"Nothing."
Jinx gasped, a grin plastered across her face. "Giblet…"
"Go. Beat Stripe. You're strong enough."
She fell silent. "So you know."
"Not difficult to see what you're up to, Jinx," the powerful Minion smiled while bending over to the shadows and spitting the blood out of his mouth outside of Gnarl's vision. The elder Minion strained his neck to see what they were doing, but couldn't hear them as they'd been fighting on the other end of the throne room. "You're going back up top..."
"And you'd like to do the same, wouldn't you?" Jinx bit her tongue as those words left her mouth. She'd never spoken of this after what Gnarl had told her.
Giblet remained silent for a moment, his back still turned to her. Then he faced her. He shook his head. "No."
"Why not? All Minions live to be out there, the fight, the excitement…"
"Not for me."
Jinx leant against the wall. "You're the most powerful Minion that ever lived. I don't believe I can take you on, not even after nearly two months of non-stop training. You could lead them, you could be the one who beats Stripe..."
"Do I look like a leader?" Giblet interrupted her. "Young Stripe fares way better than old Giblet with the rusty head. Strength isn't everything, Jinx."
Jinx stared at him. So that was it. He knew he was the strongest of them all – he'd already known during Vessperion's reign – and he'd turned away from the world because of it. He knew he'd become the leader if he continued, and he was afraid he'd make a mess of it... He preferred to put his enormous strength to use in the forge rather than on the battlefield.
That testified of much more understanding than she'd expected from a Minion. They kept surprising her.
She offered her wrapped hand. Giblet gripped it with his sharp claws and pressed so hard she could hear several of her digits snap. Despite the pain in her now broken fingers, Jinx laughed and took a fling at him, but he ducked and ran straight through the hall to the jutting platform, jumped onto the floating rock and let himself be flown back to his chosen, red-hot, noisy home.
The sun was sinking in the west. The deck was already dark, but in the top of the mast, a small strip of blinding light was still visible on the horizon.
Kniff stared at it and wondered when Everlight would appear on that horizon. He'd wondered that often during the past months, and some other things, too.
He wondered how Jinx was faring.
During their voyage, they'd fought sea monsters, they'd attacked several ships, they'd discovered islands not even marked on Gnarl's charts – but Jinx had never spoken through the mist pool, or at least, not when Kniff was around Sayron and able to hear her. Coincidence had kept them apart for a long time. He missed her, and he knew the same applied to the black-haired girl deep below the earth.
She was human, but not like the others. He'd started liking her even during the travel through Nordberg, and it had only grown in the short while after.
How severely would she have changed during all those months when the ship had been on its way? Who would he meet as he returned to their shared barrack?
Or, more likely... who would meet him as she returned to the upper world herself, to fight with them as soon as she could?
There was something dark on the horizon, just like that.
Kniff looked up, putting his thoughts aside, and raised a clawed hand above his eyes. Could that...?
Scabies, the Minion taking the helm when Sayron wasn't commanding the ship, slightly loosened the bandana he'd tied over his ears as he made out a yell from the mast. "Wha?" he shouted back.
"...and!"
"Who's being branded?"
"LAND!"
"Land? Land!" Scabies followed Kniff's angrily pointing finger, saw the dark spots on the horizon and shouted excitedly. "Land!"
"Everlight!" Kniff laughed, swinging towards the deck like a monkey. "Jinx," he added silently.
"I believe you're brave, but you're fragile."
Jinx ran along the jutting rock spike towards the precipice and took a jump. For several heartbeats she let herself fall free through the gorge, towards the lava flow which ate its way through the stone underground of the Netherworld, then she cast out a rope and swapped her downward flight for a swooping forwards motion. She pulled the rope free and threw out her other, came closer to the gorge wall, put her feet on it and ran along the vertical rock face, faster than she'd ever done before. She kept on casting ropes so she could keep on running, blinked past the red Hive, caught a flash of a beaming Parch and saluted him, immensely grateful for his lessons. She flew on over the lava flow, so fast she missed a sharp spike of rock and couldn't prevent faltering for a second. She acquired a deep cut on her ankle.
Then the gorge opened and she had a magnificent view over the Netherworld – the Tower, all of the rivers and lava flows, and the browns' barracks. She pulled her ropes free and jumped into the void with spread arms as if embracing the abyss. She enjoyed the warm wind blowing her hair and clothes backwards for a full five seconds. Then she threw out both her ropes and swung down to the barracks, fixated her own, carefully calculated the distance and flew in through the open door in one smooth movement.
Jinx rolled over once and climbed to her feet. She slung her ropes around her shoulders and walked through the swaying little building to the stool she'd taken from the Tower. In the meantime, she sent magic to her ankle, almost without consciously noticing. The wound healed within moments, leaving a faint scar.
She sat down and took her bandana from a hook on the wall. For a moment, she just sat there holding it. Kniff's cloak shred.
"You're not cut out for the battlefield."
Jinx sighed. She'd done everything she could. She was new…
"They're ashore!"
Her head flew up. "Parch?" she yelled.
The red Minion tumbled into the barrack like a shooting star. "Quaver's running around like maniac – they're ashore!" He'd followed her so fast his glowing chest was rising and falling rapidly.
"They're ashore. They're ashore!" Jinx stared at him, her eyes wide with joy. "Oh, finally!" She grabbed him and jumped around the entire barrack with him. "Thank you, Parchie!"
"Welcome," the red Minion grinned as she jumped out of the barrack so fast he had to grab hold with his tail against the rocking.
As the floating rock docked at the Tower and she wanted to run in through the gate, something pulled her into the shadows to her left with enormous force. It was Giblet, and he was standing next to something huge and glittering on the ground.
"Take this," he muttered, picking it up and handing it over to her. It was the large sword she'd seen him working on. It was completed. It was at least one and a half meters long, jagged and with a diamond-shaped end. The handle showed multiple growling creatures with bared teeth. Jinx held her breath while taking it. She sheathed it with some trouble.
"It's magnificent, Giblet."
"Give it to the Master," he spoke. "He's not coming back."
"Not?" Jinx said, confused. "But… Kelda… he…"
"No time for talking! Go!"
She jumped and quickly strapped the sword to her back with the leather belts attached to the sheath. The weapon didn't trouble her moving that much.
Then she ran off, with a last glance at the forge master and the barracks in the distance.
There was a lot of commotion in the throne room. Gnarl was sitting at the mist pool without even blinking his eyes, but Kelda was circling around him with uncharacteristic anxiety. "He's got to return! Tell him to return!" There were excited Minions scurrying around everywhere. It was so crowded Jinx could sneak off to the shadow of a pillar without much trouble. She raised a hand to the portal.
"To Everlight!" she shouted, and for a moment everyone stopped talking. She could just hear Kelda: "Take him back with you, Jinx!"
Then the blue lightning flashed and she was yanked up to the portal – and through, back to the upper world at last.