The black platform locked into place before Lo stepped off it. She was wondering why she had acted that way towards Gnarl, it wasn't like her at all. She may have had her odd moments, but never something like that. When she entered the throne room The Prophet was stood in the centre, examining a vial full of dirt in one hand and one filled with a glowing blue liquid in the other. He unscrewed the cap and poured the grey earth into his palm, and squeezed. Lo tilted her head slightly and gave a confused look, what was he up to? When he opened his hand the dirt was gone, and he seemed to become a few years younger.

"What did you do?"

The Prophet turned to her and took a deep breath. "I absorbed the energy from it, totally useless now."

"How?"

"I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours."

"I already told you."

"I want it uncensored this time."

"You first."

"I believe you should go first."

"Your in my territory with no way of escape, surrounded by my forces."

The Prophet walked forward and put his hand on her shoulder. "It's not just dirt I can drain power from." Lo could feel the energy being sapped from her, surprisingly slowly. The Prophet seemed much happier, acting as if he was having a feast. She quickly drove her knee into his gut, slapped him, and then a bolt of light left her hand and hit him in the chest, sending him flying across the room and then sliding along the floor into the foot of the throne.

"You seem to be a little slow."

The Prophet gave a laugh before pulling himself up, clutching his ribs as blood spilled out of his mouth, after a few seconds, any sign of injury disappeared from his body. "No I'm not, you create too much magic, that's why you glow, otherwise you'd burn out. Same premises as the liquid."

"Thank you for that lovely bit of knowledge. Now, give me a reason not to kill you."

"I can help you, if your the overlord you'll want to conquer."

"What makes you think I want to take over the world? What if I just want to sit down here?"

"The same reason I drain magic, because I'm meant to, I drink, therefore I am."

"Where was the insane wise man that was with me in the wasteland."

"He's still in here, just a few others are awake as well."

"What do you mean?"

"That's where the story comes in."

"Then you better start explaining."

"Do you know of the nordbergian abominations?"

"So they have those creatures up north."

"No, much more dangerous, much more refined. We were exposed pure magic over a prolonged period, weeks locked away in a cell with ten others. Slowly we all became one, ten minds sharing a single body. But we became dependant on the magic to keep us stable, without it, our minds shut down one at a time till there's only one of us left. But with the new energy, all our minds are open again, and we see all paths."

"All paths to what?"

"To granting our brothers the peace they deserve."

"And which path is most likely?"

"The one where you lead."

The Huntsman looked at Everlight, the jungle looked so green, so tall. He'd grown up in Nordberg, a place where the trees were all pine and not leafy. He did spend some time away from the north during the war, tracking and killing high priority targets, blocking supply chains, scouting. But he'd never seen so many trees before, so much green and brown, and so much warmth. It was boiling here, if he'd been wearing his mask he swore it would have melted into his face.

He had taken a boat to find others of his kind, to tell them that there was going to be a meeting. They all wanted to stop running, to be safe. He knew some had families, they needed to be safe as well, and Parcid thought that the king might give them what they wanted. The Huntsman disagreed. The King wouldn't give them their safety. They would be registered, names, homes, friends and family. Then, just as they'd done there work, they would be removed. Even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to. Years of being stigmatised by the Paladins had made it impossible to be seen as normal.

When he stepped off the ramp he was instantly hit by new smells and sights and sounds. He didn't like it here, every sense was too crowded. Sight was blocked by people, sound by those people shouting and the chattering of insects, and any sense of smell was blocked by spices being sold at the stalls. So much noise. How could the people stand to live here?

He felt light headed, every single sense was being drowned. There was just too much. He couldn't focused, seeing where he was going was like finding a needle in a haystack that had been painted silver. He ended up stumbling through the crowd, some saying to him that it was a bit early for drinking. When someone tried to help him he instinctively pushed them away. He needed to find somewhere quiet, away from all the sounds and sights and smells.

He stumbled around for fifteen minutes until he found a dark alley away from the market with less people. He slumped against a wall, putting his head into his hands. There was still noise. His clothes had absorbed the smell of spice and the thud of boots came from every direction. He needed to focus, to block out the things he didn't need. Spice, shouting merchants, the smell of the jungle, insects, anything that was driving him to the brink of madness. He sat in silence, taking deep breaths.

Armoured boots, drinks being poured, bread being baked across the street. How could anyone stand this? Everything, but nothing clear, like solving a jigsaw where the corner pieces have an edge that looks like it could connect as well.

"Can you feel that?" A voice said from around the corner.

"There's something nearby," there was a slight pause followed by the sound of sniffing, "seems like abomination."

Shit. Armoured boots. Why did he try to zone those out? He pulled himself up and his work was undone. Blocking senses temporarily was different from permanently and he felt everything hit him again. Metal against stone moving closer, his own deep breathing as he attempted to hide. It was futile. He could hear them next to him, then nothing. He felt something hit him on the back of his head, then the world went black.

The bath was huge, more like a pool. Fountains in the shape of blue minions let out a constant stream of hot water. It turned out heaven for Lo was ruling hell with a bath. Not only was it wide enough for her to swim lengths, but it was deep enough that her toes didn't touch the bottom. It reminded her of the one time she'd been allowed to swim in the sea at Everlight. It had been Lo, her mother and a few guards.

She'd made peace with her mothers death a long time ago. It had been eight years ago that she'd heard that her mother had been killed by the same thing that had forced her to leave. The college had sent a letter home asking if it would be suitable for her to return for the funeral. Her father hadn't even sent a reply.

The master at the college said that he probably didn't get the letter. Lo disagreed. Looking back at it, she realised she had the most screwed up family tree ever. She was going to have to ask someone where the overlords came from. Gnarl seemed old enough to know, and if he didn't she'd ask if there was an older minion than him. And if he didn't know then she would look in the library. If there was nothing there then, well she didn't t know what she would do.

After getting dressed she decided to find Gnarl, to ask him where his kind came from, and where he got the dress from. She was certain it wasn't one of Lilith's, she was to tall for it to be hers. Maybe her father had a few other female guests and it used to belong to one of them, or it may have been her mothers. Lo shuddered at the thought.

No one was willing to tell her anything. She'd asked Quaver, she'd asked Gnarl, she'd asked Morg, none of them seemed to know anything. She had the feeling Gnarl was hiding something, so she'd ended up in the library.

She felt something she'd only felt once before, the first time she wandered into the darkness. She felt like she was at home, when she was little she thought the estate in Everlight was her home, but she now she realised she merely felt attached to the place.

She flicked through the pages of the book, nothing. Not even a hint of where the creatures came from. She was almost about to give up.

"The first being to be named Overlord was Lord Gromard, but before him was the Black Baron, and his father, and his father, and before them there was the Man In The Shadows, and before him He Who Walks In The Night, and before him The Wandering Dark. While the title of Overlord has only existed for the past four generations, the evil it embodies has existed for time beyond any memory, if not time immemorial." Lo gave a dissatisfied huff, before slamming the book shut.

"What are you looking for?" Lilith's voice made Lo half jump out of her chair.

"Nothing. Just trying to find out where the Overlord came from."

"Any luck?"

"I have a list of names, and a note saying that the men in question have existed for longer than anyone cares to remember."

"My people have a myth about it, if your interested."

"If it gets me any further than this, certainly."

"There was once a great monster, or wizard or trickster or demon, no one is certain. It committed a crime that angered the gods so much that they banished it to the deepest hell, but before it was sent away a curse was laid upon the land, and so the minions were created. The monsters laid siege to the land and almost tore the world apart. But the gods gifted the remaining races.

They gave them stones that would allow them to controlled the minions, and the land returned to normal. Until someone abused the power of the stones, and so the land was plunged into darkness once again. Then a group of heroes came along and defeated him, but not before he had a single child.

With the stones stored away and the minions culled. The child was thought to be harmless, until he came of age. Hid father's powers passed through his blood. And the darkness returned once again."

"Until another group of heroes appeared?" Lilith nodded. "It's like a cycle, Overlord, heroes, Overlord, heroes. When does it end?"

"When the Overlord no longer exists."

"So, someday, a group of people will come along and kill me."

"I would say old age could finish an Overlord, but your blood favours your mother so you'll likely be immortal in that aspect."

"What do you mean likely?"

Lilith moved over to a bookshelf and pulled out a slim tome. "There have been a few records of half breeds. Most live for an extra half life of a human, but with those they looked human. You fit into a rarer group that will stop ageing after somewhere between twenty one and thirty."

"So, the only way this ends is with my death."

"Then a new Overlord will come along."

Lo paused for a second before smiling slightly. "But what if they didn't know I was the Overlord? Could I have, a stand in? Someone who when I'm done will take the fall?"

"I suppose, your condition is rather unique so it is your choice. But where would you find someone?"

Lo started walking slowly from the library. "The person would need to be male, good at combat, seem mildly insane yet calculating, and seem unnatural."

"And who where are you going to find someone?"

"Would you say that the Overlor..., my father's armour would fit The Prophet?"

"So, you've found your scapegoat."

"And I think I know our first target. Time to go see my father."

N/A So the first part of the story's done. Sorry it took a while to get an update out.