Overlord Rising - Chapter 11 Ypnis

They sat in the chieftain’s longhouse. An array of items and trinkets decorated the abode. Many of these trophies and objects caught the eyes, but Uriel found herself more concerned with the company that sat with them.

In one side of the room sat the village elders. Uriel recognized them by their scales, which looked quite pale and almost faded of color. On the other side of the room, the mightiest of their warriors sat. They had brighter shades and appeared to have more vigor than their elders.

They all sat quietly, yet said so much in their silence. They didn’t need to use words to express themselves, as their grim expressions already made their thoughts as clear as any words they could utter.

Uriel then shifted her eyes to the right, where Ragosh sat. He sat with his knees folded, and his eyes bulging with uncertainty. His tail whipped left and right, marking his nervousness. Listening carefully, Uriel almost heard the sound of his pumping heart. If it were not for the crackling of the fireplace, everyone would have heard his pestering noises.

At the very end of the longhouse, Enoch sat. He nibbled on a wooden pipe, and took several deep breaths. Wisps of smoke drifted from his nostrils, carrying a sweet scent. Like the others, he said nothing, but his expressions said everything.

After taking a few puffs from his pipe, Enoch raised his head and dropped his pipe. He passed quick glances at Uriel and Mycelia, before locking his attention on his son.

“Do you have any idea what you have done?” Enoch asked. He spoke in a composed manner, yet the suppression in his voice said otherwise. “We sent you to find the Stone Witch to save us, not to send us to war.”

“Apologies, father,” Ragosh growled. He planted his head to the ground, for he dared not look the chieftain directly in the eyes. “But I do believe that this is a wise choice!”

“Pray tell, how is sending us to our deaths the wise choice?” Enoch asked. “May I remind you that the Allosaur are those we face? They are not some lesser clan whom we can directly challenge or engage in battle!”

“But with the Overlord and Stone Witch, we can succeed!” Ragosh replied. “Their combined magic and power is beyond reckoning, and with their aid, we can claim dominance over the Allosaur!”

“This battle is one for freedom and safety, NOT dominance,” Enoch said. “The Ovoo are NOT conquerors! It is not our way.”

“Then what is our way?!” Ragosh snarled. “Are we to simply allow the greater clans to make demands of us, without taking into consideration any consequences?!”

“You will hold your tongue, hatchling!” one of the elders bellowed. “The Ovoo has always remained as a humble clan, seeking only the blessings of the forest and land! It is not our place to claim power!”

“Then what are we to do?!” Ragosh yelled. “Simply allow the Stone Witch to use her magic to protect us?!”

“Yes,” another elder nodded. “By displaying her power, the Allosaur will ultimately realize that the Ovoo are protected by her magic, and will give up any notion of attacking us!”

The elders and warriors nodded with each other in agreement, while Ragosh simply stared on with disbelief at all this. He turned to Uriel with apologetic shame.

“Overlord, Stone Witch,” Enoch addressed. “My son has made a foolish agreement with you. None of us desire to challenge the Allosaur or any other. However, since you are already here, we humbly request that you help us defend against the Allosaur’s threat.”

Uriel sighed and stood up. “We originally agreed to defend you against the Allosaur,” she said. “It was I who convinces your son to march towards your enemy’s village. We will help you.”

“We greatly appreciate-,”

Before Enoch could finish his sentence, Uriel interrupted. “For how long?”

The lizard in the longhouse looked at one another, confused with the question. “What do you mean, how long?” Enoch then asked.

“How long do you intent to have us protect you?” Uriel rephrased her question. “You do understand that Mycelia and I have other concerns and priorities that demand our attention, do you not? How long would you wish us to assist you? You cannot rely on us forever.”

“Until they finally realize that their efforts to attack us are useless!” Enoch answered.

Uriel shook her head, and chuckled cynically. “Chieftain, I have faced warriors like the Allosaur. They are warriors filled with a great deal of pride. If they are as great as you say, they will not permit your clan to make them look weak.”

Heads turned, while eyes grew. None of them could quite argue with Uriel’s reasoning. The silence soon disappeared, replaced with mumbling and bickering. Their words carried hints of worry and concern for their situation. It seems things had now become even direr than they expected.

“And I assume your answer is to march against the Allosaur?” Enoch snickered. “If we challenge them, our clan will perish.”

“If I did not believe in any chances of victory, I would not have proposed it,” Uriel responded, crossing her arms with confidence. “Perhaps by yourselves you are unable, but with our help, I can save your clan and help them rise.”

“No!” an elder stood, waving his fist. “The Ovoo is not a clan of conquerors! If we do this, then we will be despised by the others!”

“I disagree!” cried Torgan, who had been sitting amongst them. “If we defeat the Allosaur, we would not only assert dominance, but even gain the respect of those that have been bullied by greater clans! Yes, alone it would be impossible, but if the Overlord and Stone Witch leads us, then we can succeed!”

“You foolish hatchling!” another elder gasped. “Such recklessness will lead you to an early death!”

“And your complacence will lead us to a slow one!” a warrior spat.

Before long, the entire longhouse exploded with arguments. Harsh language and curses shot in the air, like a volley of arrows. The elders berated the warriors for wanting to challenge a great enemy, while the warriors criticized the elders for clinging to their tradition. The noise became so great that even a few of the villagers started gathering outside the longhouse with concern.

After a minute of argument, Enoch finally took a stand. “ENOUGH!” his thundering voice shattered the wills of all those around him. Silence and order returned to the longhouse, while unwanted observers scattered away like frightened birds from the trees.

Uriel couldn’t help but put on a weak smile. Her hand trembled, while her heart raced in her chest. It has been a long time since she heard a voice powerful enough to send shivers down her spine.

“Overlord Uriel, you raise a reasonable point,” Enoch admitted. “However, we cannot simply cast aside our beliefs and traditions for this matter. Thus, the matter shall be decided by the ancestors.”

“Chieftain, you can’t mean!” one of the elders gasped.

“Yes, this Overlord shall go through Ypnis,” Enoch nodded.

The declaration met with hushed gasps and whispers from the lizards. Uriel turned to Mycelia for answers, only to receive a clueless shrug from the Dark-Elf.

“And what is Ypnis?” Uriel asked.

“It is an important ritual of leadership for our clan,” Ragosh answered gruffly. “It decides who would become our chieftain, head shaman, and even who would be tasked with important feats. It is only used, when we are unable to truly decide on the matter.”

“How convenient,” Uriel grunted, assuming that sarcasm was foreign to them. “So, how do you perform this ritual?”

“A shaman will summon the spirits of our wisest ancestors,” Enoch answered. “They possess the bodies of four of our elders, and judge on what course the clan must take. I will stand by as a witness to this.”

“That is just basic necromancy,” Mycelia remarked.

“Really?” Uriel said with surprise. “Isn’t necromancy some sort of dark magic that raises corpses or skeletons to do one’s bidding?”

“That is a more complicated form of necromancy,” Mycelia corrected. “Regardless, necromancy a rather difficult type of magic to practice, even for my people. I am rather surprised that these lizards know it.”

“Perhaps they’re not as primitive as you thought,” Uriel snickered. She turned her attention back to the chieftain. “If this ritual decides things, then I have no problem going through it.”

“Very well,” Enoch grunted. He turned to one of the elders and nodded. “We prepare for the Ypnis.”

Upon saying this, the warriors and elders stood up and exited the longhouse one by one. As they left, they continued to quietly express their discontent and opinions on the matter, but restrained themselves from causing any violent behavior. Both Ragosh and Torgan left as well. Only Uriel, Mycelia, Enoch and four elders remained.

“The Stone Witch must leave as well,” Enoch commanded.

“Why?” Mycelia asked suspiciously.

“It is your Overlord who must be judged,” Enoch explained. “Our ancestors will decide whether or not we should follow her lead to battle.”

“Mycelia, wait outside,” Uriel requested. “I will be fine.”

“If you wish, my lady,” Mycelia replied with reluctance.

As soon as she stepped out, Enoch and the elders prepared. They removed whatever trinkets they carried and painted themselves with white markings across their faces and bodies. They then each took a bite of dried fruit that had pieces of mold growing on the surface. Judging by their expressions, the fruit wasn’t simply a few months old.

“We begin,” Enoch said, his face still reflecting disgust towards the fruit.

“What should I do?” Uriel asked.

“Just sit and wait.”

Enoch and the elders stood around the fireplace. They played drums and rattles, while tossing strange powders into the fire. They chanted with deep voices. Even though Uriel understood their language, she could not make out the gibberish they sang. As they continued to chant, the fire grew stronger and wilder. The flames tossed violently, like a savage wave rocking to the power of a storm.

Out of nowhere, a chilling wind blew around them. It carried a hushed wail from the beyond. Shadows and darkness stretched all around them, as series of items began to tap and dance. Slowly, the painted markings around the lizards turned from white to black. Despite all that happened, the lizards continued to chant.

Silence eventually fell, as the markings on their scales changed. The mysterious wind disappeared, the flames settled, and the lizards fell to the ground.

Uriel stared with a mixture of astonishment and confusion on her face. She turned back and forth towards the door and the bodies, unsure whether to wait, or call for help. Uriel knew next to nothing about this ritual. If anything, something may have gone horribly wrong.

Chieftain Enoch remained collected, however. He sat on his spot, not saying a word, or changing his expression. Perhaps this was really a part of the ritual?

Eventually, the shaman and elders rose from the ground. Their irises and pupils vanished from their eyes, making them completely blank. A new presence resonated from their bodies, one no longer controlled by the strings of time.

“Who summons us from the beyond?” the shaman asked in thunderous voice. It didn’t take a necromancer or even anyone with magic to realize that the chieftain had been possessed. “Who has performed Ypnis?”

Enoch stepped forward boldly. “We have,” he answered with confidence. “I am the current chieftain of the Ovoo, Enoch.”

The chieftain nudged his tail on Uriel’s back, making her step forward. Uriel took this as a sign to introduce herself. Swallowing her anxiety, she spoke.

“I am Overlord Uriel, a warrior to aid the Ovoo in their time of need.”

“We are the ancestors of the Ovoo, but you are not Ovoo at all,” one of the ancestors hissed. “For what purpose did they call you?”

Enoch cleared his throat. “The Allosaur threaten our clan, YOUR clan,” he explained. “We have called this Overlord and her witch to defend us. They agreed, but they have other plans.”

“Your chieftain and elders propose that we simply help defend, but I disagree. Instead of waiting, your clan ought to also ready to retaliate. Attack the Allosaur when its strength is ready.”

“The Ovoo are not conquerors,” another ancestor retorted. “It is not in the interest of our clan to attack and claim power over another.”

“If we do not challenge them, the Allosaur will simply persist,” Uriel argued. “I have never met an Allosaur, but I can tell that they’re clan of great pride. To lose a battle against the Ovoo would cause them great shame, and fuel the desire to conquer your clan.”

“Regardless of what you say, our traditions and beliefs are of greater value,” the ancestor possessing Enoch said. “The Ovoo shall not march to face the Allosaur. That is our will.”

“You stubborn old stiffs, are your traditions really more valuable than the lives and freedom of your own kind?!” Uriel snarled.

“You are not one of us!” one of the ancestors sneered. “That one fact gives you no right to decide what is best for the Ovoo! We will decide how our clan lives and dies!”

“This is ridiculous,” Uriel spat.

“It seems that our ancestors have made their decision,” Enoch cockily commented, crossing his arms in triumph.”

“Indeed, we have spoken,” the possessed shaman bellowed. “We will never permit you to lead the Ovoo.”

“Perhaps none of you won’t, but I will,” a voice thundered from the flames.

Suddenly, the fireplace’s color changed from blazing scarlet to soothing white. A comforting warmth reached out from the flames. It felt inviting. Uriel found herself tempted to touch it. The possessed lizards stepped back and stared with awe.

“What is this sorcery?” one the ancestors said.

“Be gone from this place, you old fools,” the voice said. It spoke in calm manner, yet sounded with great authority and power.

Without even a word, the lizards froze and fell to ground like puppets cut from their strings. They appeared to have only lost consciousness. The ancient presence vanished from their bodies, while the painted markings slowly faded. Enoch too fell back, slipping into unconsciousness.

“I apologize for their behavior,” the voice called out. “However, they are so firmly rooted to their traditions and beliefs that they would never agree to such an idea.”

Uriel raised a brow. “Are you another ancestor of the Ovoo?” she asked. “Perhaps a more reasonable one?”

“Yes, I am the ancestor of the Ovoo,” the voice said. “I am also the ancestor of Allosaur, the Kompos and every other clan that walks this land. I go by many names, but I choose to be nameless.”

“Well then nameless ancestor, will you permit me to lead the Ovoo against the Allosaur?” Uriel asked.

“I will,” the nameless ancestor replied. “As the oldest ancestor of the Ovoo, I shall allow you to do so.”

“I give you my gratitude, but why?” Uriel said. “You say that you are the ancestor of all these clans, yet you allow me to lead one to battle against the other. Why?”

The voice chuckled, causing the flames to dance a bit more wildly. “It is because you are Overlord,” it replied. “Many ancient spirits know of you. Some welcome your presence as a catalyst for new beginnings. Others fear you as a beacon of destruction.”

“And what do you see me as?” Uriel asked.

“A means to alleviate my boredom,” the nameless ancestor cackled. “The clans have always followed their traditions and rules, but you can change that. Regardless of what you have planned, the path you carve should prove to be most entertaining.”

Uriel frowned. “I do not approve your reason for helping me, but I will not turn it down.”

“Excellent,” the voice hissed. Although she couldn’t see a face, Uriel imagined a wide grin. “Now, when these five regain consciousness, they will request proof of my approval. Simply do what they tell you, and they will see that I have agreed with you.”

Upon saying those words, the flames returned to its regular color, and the voice ceased speaking. Everything appeared as it was. Soon, Enoch and the elders regained consciousness.

“Ugh, what happened?” Enoch growled, as he climbed back to his feet. He shook his head, trying to remember what just occurred. “Yes that’s right, our ancestors denied your idea!”

Uriel licked her lip. The first ones did not approve, but the last one did. However, they did not need to know this. “You must have a bad memory, chieftain. They accepted my plan.”

Skepticism sketched all over the chieftain’s face. “Prove it,” he said, as he held out his staff.

“What must I do?” Uriel asked.

“Just take it,” an elder sneered in a manner unfit for is position. “We shall see if the ancestors have truly accepted you.”

Uriel grimaced at the lizard’s tone of voice. With a deep breath through her nose, Uriel took hold of the staff. As soon as she closed her fingers, life coursed through the rod. The serpent carving raised its head and hissed violently at Enoch, forcing the chieftain to release his grip.

Enoch gasped and pulled his hand away. Upon letting go, the staff returned to its lifeless state. Enoch and the elders looked on with shock at what had just occurred. They turned to one another, with their jaws dangling from their mouths.

“I-it can’t be,” one of the elders babbled.

“Well now,” Uriel grinned, as she examined the staff. “It appears your ancestors have spoken.”