Alright, this is what I have so far. THE REST OF THE ISSUE WILL BE UP LATER.
Sorry it’s taking so fucking long. This whole chapter is a pain in the ass. This doesn’t bode well for the rest of the arc, either…
Issue 31: The First Matriarch (Part 1)
In the years following the war, the people’s suffering grew more and more. The plague had not only reduced the male population by a devastating margin, it had also completely altered the planet’s social order. Nearly all of the society relied on magic users and related powers to accomplish day-to-day tasks, and while these factors did not simply vanish overnight, the sheer lose of manpower laid a significant blow to the world’s entire infrastructure.
And so it came to be that Ione, first daughter of Orea and Irae, rose from these ashes. Having already been studying magic illegally, she began to teach the other women in secret. When the Patriarchy discovered this, she was swiftly arrested, convicted of treason, and sentenced to death. Her students, however, quickly proved their worth, breaking Ione out of the dungeons and preparing a proper rebellion. Under Ione’s guidance, the women of the world overthrew the remaining men, establishing new and prosperous world order.
Ione ruled for the next fifty years, and under her guidance, the planet entered a glorious golden age. So important were her efforts that, when she finally passed on, the entire world was renamed “Iona” in her honor. And that, as they say, is that.
-“The History of Iona, Book I” Cliff Notes Version
THE PRESENT, ON IONA, IN THE ROYAL DINING HALL…
“BRING THE FIRST MATRIARCH BACK?!”
Deralin doubled over and spat out her wine at the news. The purple liquid splashed on the centuries-old tablecloth, leading to the destruction of yet another priceless artifact. At the other end of the table, the Matriarch simply shook her head sadly. “Deralin, straighten yourself at once.”
The princess continued to stare dumbfounded for several more seconds. Finally, the synapses in her brain kicked into high gear, and she pushed her back into the chair, patting out the small bits of dribble from her mouth in the process. “S…Sorry, Matriarch. But…the First Matriarch has been dead for a thousand years! How can any…”
“My position bears with it certain privileged information.” The Matriarch reached under the chair and pulled out an ancient scroll, practically crumbling to dust as she touched it. The servants quickly followed the unspoken cue and removed any food, drink, and other substances that may damage the irreplaceable document. The item itself was still closed, a large wax seal keeping it bound in place. With absolute care, the Matriarch popped the seal off and unfurled the document. On it was inscribed ancient spells and incantations, all aimed at forming a multi-stage summoning ritual. “We have little time to prepare. The council members will assist me in preparing the summoning circle. You, on the other hand, will find us an appropriate host.”
“Well, that doesn’t seem so- HOST?!”
“We can only summon her spirit to this world. We will have to remove the host’s own soul first, and then transfer the First Matriarch into her body. Her form should then twist into the form of our ancestor, giving us a few precious hours before the body disintegrates completely.”
“You mean this is a human sacrifice?” Deralin’s fist slammed into the table so hard it created a small dent in the dining room floor. “You want me to find someone to DIE?!”
The Matriarch stood motionless for several moments. Deralin, meanwhile, slinked back into her chair, looking rather ashamed of herself. “Deralin, I will remind you to mind your matters in this palace. You are the Matriarch’s daughter. Act like one.” The daughter simply nodded in acknowledgment. “In any case, there is no way around it. During the last summoning, the First Matriarch mentioned the possible downfall of our entire civilization. This may be our last time to ask her advice before the cataclysm.” Deralin sank even further. “Now, return home. I am sure your girlfriend is waiting for you.”
“Yes…my ‘girl’friend.” Fortunately, the Matriarch wasn’t listening for any sarcasm or subtle hinting; she was already on her way out of the dining hall. Deralin quickly shoved a few bread pieces in her pocket and made for the door.
AN HOUR LATER, AT DERALIN’S HOME…
Deralin sat in her dark study, the only light coming from a few old candles. Before her were a mountain of tomes, filled with long-forbidden arcane knowledge. She didn’t even notice Gemini sneak back in, holding her own small spellbook. “Hey, Lin. What do you think-?” The one actual girl in the room slumped forward. “…Did you have a bad day?”
“Very,” muttered Deralin. “Mother wants me to find someone willing to sacrifice themselves to the First Matriarch. AND she’s starting to ask too much about us. AND my lizard needs to be rescaled.”
Gemini…didn’t want to think about that last one. “Wait…what was that about a First Matriarch?”
Deralin turned around in her chair, her eyes finally locking with Gemini’s. “Oh right, you’re not from this world. The First Matriarch was the one that overthrew the old government a thousand years ago, after the dark god Naar invaded. They say she slew Naar in combat, and then marched on the royal palace, defeated the king, and drove the men out of power once and for all! Of course, that’s the abridged version, but-”
“She didn’t defeat Naar,” said Gemini. “My brother did. I was there.”
The real girl’s expression deflated into a mixture of bewilderment and frustration. “Gemini, I love you and everything, but you expect me to believe a guy like that could possibly destroy the greatest evil the universe has ever seen?” Gemini opened his mouth, but was stopped by a raised hand. “No, no, don’t answer that. Right now, I need to find a host body.”
It was plainly obvious Deralin was thinking big thoughts, possibly planning her next move, and thus was not in a talkative mood. Gemini sighed to herself and started to walk out, her thoughts returning to the tome. Just as she got to the door, however, she stopped and spun around. “By the way, do you know anything about this…”
AT THAT SAME TIME, IN DEEP 14…
Ivonne and GG Crono continued to type away at the console. Demigod and Martinez sat behind them, making sure they were hitting the right buttons. Finally, the monitors started to flicker back to life, revealing a sea of sharp, hissing static. GG Crono pulled away from the keyboard, while Ivonne continued her work. “So…you guys planted a bug the last time you were in Iona?”
“Galloway insisted,” said demigod. “It was his way of keeping an eye on his brother’s whereabouts. It should still be active.”
“Then…why isn’t it working?”
“There was an ion storm a few weeks ago,” said Martinez. “Those things flat-out destroy trans-dimensional equipment; the bug ‘s signal was probably lost.”
The screen suddenly started to fade into focus. It was a hazy picture of a dark and dusty study, most likely in Deralin’s home. A woman was sitting at a desk, speaking to someone out of view of the camera. “Wait, this is a video feed?”
“Gemini agreed to wear it, in exchange for letting him stay,” said demigod. “It seemed more reliable than pure audio, in any case.” The video continued to hiss and crackle. “We were wrong, as usual.”
Finally, they managed to start picking up something actually useful. “…You volunteer…ritual…sacrifice…First Matriarch…” The video suddenly cut off, replaced by the delightful wall of snow from before. The team simply stood there, scratching their heads in total confusion at what they just…saw. Ivonne simply sighed. “I don’t mean to be rude, but every single piece of your equipment seems to fail at very important moments. We might want to get that looked into.”
THIRTY MINUTES LATER…
The entire Task Force and Reserves gathered in the cavernous underground lair, ready for yet another (almost certainly) pointless meeting. Pierson took up his usual seat at the head of the meeting table, complete with cheap fold-out card table chair. The others, meanwhile, managed to import fine leather office chairs from far-off lands, complete with cushions deep enough to sink into. He wasn’t sure HOW they managed to get a hold of those things, but the flames of jealousy could still prove useful.
Pierson slowly shuffled some papers, tapped the table a few times, and finally managed to bring the meeting to some semblance of order. “Alright folks, we have a problem. According to Martinez, an ion storm’s wiped out the tracking devices on Gemini.”
A few hushed murmurs emerged from the crowd. “A…Are you sure this is serious?” asked Omega. “I mean, from what we’ve heard, he’s in pretty good hands.”
“Is there anything that makes you think he’s in danger?” asked Xero.
“There was mention of a ‘ritual sacrifice’ or something like that,” said GG Crono. “But that’s not what’s really important. Let’s face it, ever since that guy went there, he’s been nearly killed every five minutes. We have a responsibility, people.”
A long, tense, awkward silence followed, finally broken by Mabatsekker’s plainly-spoken interjection. “No we don’t. The guy chose to stay there last time, remember? If he wants to escape, he can just come here.”
“If it were so easy,” said demigod. “From what I have seen of the Ionians, they are very much traditionalists. If Gemini’s true identity is discovered, it will not only lead to his death, but it may bring about massive civil discord.”
“And nothing is more dangerous than a planet of mages with an agenda,” said Weiila. Martinez and Mabatsekker grimaced at her words, but in their deepest hearts, knew it was true.
“That leads to the second problem.” Pierson pointed towards an anxious Weiila and a disinterested Esker. “We’ve pretty much burned out all our goodwill on the last two trips. It’ll be up to you two to go down there and find him.”
EVERYONE in the room just about exploded at that point, especially the two girls. “What the hell?” “We never agreed to this!” “Who do you think you are?” “I’m hungry!” “How are they…”
Everything ground to a halt at the sound of Pierson getting out of his chair, reaching under the table, and quickly pulling out and setting up a tripod and sketchpad. The first sheet simply said “Operation: Gemini Rescue, Plan A.” “Alrighty folks, we have the following problems. First off, Iona is pretty much female-owned and operated.” He ripped off the first page, revealing a duo of incredibly lame stick figures, one with wings and another with a spear. A large crowd of nondescript sticks with half-finished ovals on top surrounded them. “Unfortunately, we’ve always had a very small number of female superheroes in this neck of the woods. That leaves you two.”
Weiila and Esker exchanged knowing glances, although it was more because of the absolutely horrid artwork you should be glad you will never see than anything else. Pierson quickly continued his little presentation, ripping ahead to the next page. It showed the two stick figures standing in front of a castle…or at least, a few rectangular blocks with Lincoln Logs on top. “You two will need to infiltrate whatever dark and/or ominous place he’s being held in…” Rip to reveal the two figures running away, carrying another stick figure. “Grab our target…” Rip to reveal an angry giant circle with triangles for a mouth standing on top of the castle. “And get the hell out of there before whoever’s holding him notices you were ever there.” Rip to the last page, showing a whole row of barely-identifiable heroes sharing Coronas on a sandy beach/small gathering of yellow glitter and globs of Elmer Glue.
Once again, the entire audience was stunned into almost total silence. Martinez finally broke the latest wave of awkwardness. “First off, never do that again. Second, I don’t think sending Weiila and Esker alone is going to solve anything. We’ll need at least one more person…” He cast his eyes back to the console, where Ivonne was still working away. “I have an idea.”
A FEW HOURS LATER…
Weiila, Esker, and Ivonne stood at the control panel, all decked out for a vicious round of superheroism and all that entailed. Martinez sat at the console, furiously punching in a long list of numbers, figures, matrixes, quadratic formulas, the Detroit Lions’ 1989 lineup, and the like. GG Crono, meanwhile, was busy reading over the long series of notes their resident elf had given him. The large machine finally beeped and chimed, signaling something good…everyone hoped, at least. Nobody besides Ivonne had bothered to actually learn how the damn thing works.
“And that’s about it,” said Martinez. He pushed himself up from the chair, pausing briefly to snap his spine back into position, and turned to face the awaiting girls. “According to the maps we picked up last time, you should be teleported just outside of Deralin’s house. From there, assuming those two are still inside, you can just nab Gemini, and call in the incantation.”
“And what if he isn’t?” asked Esker.
“Then you’ll just have to do some leg work. If he’s in one of the academies, most of them can be entered through the city’s sewer system. If he’s in the palace, just use the front door.”
“…The front door?” asked Weiila.
“Iona has a pretty strict ‘open door’ policy with their government. Just make sure you stay on the carpet, don’t make eye contact with the guards, and mind your manners around the Matriarch. We don’t need another half-assed invasion.” He turned to Ivonne. “That goes double for you.” The elf girl simply scoffed at the mage’s words.
WHILE ALL THAT WAS GOING ON…
Gemini and Deralin simply sat at the table, staring at the large, rotund yellow melon in front of them. The former was still reading the spell book, while the later was staring hungrily at the fruit. After several more minutes of absolute boredom, Gemini set the book aside and turned his attention back to the melon. “Okay, so…how does this spell work, exactly?”
Deralin stood up and walked to the far end of the kitchen, spun around, and raised her hands. A distinct magical glow emerged from her hands, followed by a radiating aura around the fruit itself. The spectacle simply continued for several minutes, Deralin panting and sweating with every passing second. Finally, the energy field around the fruit exploded, sending Gemini slamming into a nearby wall and the caster tumbling to her knees in relief. On the table itself, surrounded by a field of smoke, stood two melons, each an exact replica of the other.
The two slowly approached the latest application in cloning. “Wait…what just happened?”
“A cloning spell. With a lot of practice, we can actually create exact copies of anything we want.”
Gemini punched one of the melons, smashing it into a pulpy mess with one blow. Deralin responded in kind…only for the fruit’s skin to simply bend and stretch like rubber. “There are…a few problems, as you can see. It takes decades of studying and drilling to actually make a 1-to-1 copy. And even then, nobody’s been able to clone anything higher than some rocks, a few pies, and the Life and Times of High Master Sio, Volumes I-IX.”
“And you want to try this…on ME?!”
“Well, we only need a body for, what, five minutes? Besides, the entire summoning circle is littered with augmentation spells; otherwise, this whole scheme wouldn’t even get off the ground. If we can time it perfectly, we can not only clone you long enough, we can also split you up, reverse that potion mishap, and teleport you back here. As long as nothing goes wrong, we’ll have you home in no time at all!”
For the first time that whole night, Gemini let out a small smile. “Awesome! Quite frankly, I’m tired of being a girl.” Cue a groan from Deralin. “I mean, sure, the first week or two was an interesting experiment, but after that…And figuring out how to use the bathrooms!” Cue a groan and accompanying facepalm from Deralin. “Not to mention that…other problem.”
Cue the butcher knife to the throat. “One more word, and that won’t be the only bleeding going on.”
(Author note: On the behalf of the human race itself, I apologize for that last scene.)
THE NEXT MORNING, JUST OUTSIDE OF DERALIN’S HOUSE…
Nothing happened.
AT THE SAME MOMENT, IN THE SAME SPOT, ABOUT FIFTEEN FEET OFF THE GROUND…
A small glint of white light emerged admist the heavy overcast above. Its arrival was followed by the lightning crackles and rumbling that traditionally followed a rip in the very fabric of reality. Then came the three Task Forcers, prepped and ready for the mission ahead.
Then came that lovely, nearly-universal force known as “gravity.”
The trio tumbled to the ground, ending up in a mass on the hard ground below. The usual “pushing and kicking to get back up,” accompanied by the painful realization that Ionese grass was actually quite a few degrees sharper than the Earth affair, quickly followed. By the time the token female heroes were back to their feet, they were already expositing a litany of curses towards Martinez’s negligence in mission briefings. At least, by all they could gather, they were at the right spot.
Ivonne reached into her pocket, pulling out a small map of the city itself. Val, meanwhile, flipped on a small earpiece, previously hidden under her hair. “Mother Wolf calling Papa Smurf. Mother Wolf calling Papa Smurf. Do you copy?”
BACK AT THE TASK FORCE HQ…
GG Crono briefly removed the headset, long enough to smack himself for choosing such retarded call signs, before slowly remounting for another long, hard operation. “This is Papa Smurf. Reading you loud and clear. Report your current coordinates.”
BACK AT IONA…
Esker fumbled around her satchel for a few seconds, before pulling out a small GPS-like device. A few generic button pushes later, and the screen flashed green with a sparsely-detailed map of the surrounding area. “Okay…it’s saying…187.93.”
A few seconds passed. “You’re on target. The next wave of the Ion storm should be passing in about five hours EST. The operation is a go.”
Val’s earpiece let out a small burst of static, followed by a faintly audible click. The valkyrie replaced the GPS, swung Gungnir over her shoulder, and turned her attention back to the other two. “Alright, we’ve only got five hours to do this. Ivonne, any idea how we get inside?”
“There’s an old sewer network running underneath the block. If we can get inside, we might be able to tunnel in, grab Gemini, and slip out without anyone noticing. All we need are some shovels, some low-grade plastic explosives, and a couple of M-60s in case things go wrong…”
Weiila simply facepalmed, while Val let out a deep, remorseful sigh. Ivonne, meanwhile, continued to drag on about the various ways they could possibly break inside and cause an interdimensional incident. “…And then, if we prime the chickens long enough, we can…”
“Um…Ivonne?” said Weiila. “It’s…all well and good that you’re helping us and everything, but there’s an easier way.” She walked all of ten feet to the left, revealing a very large, very obvious front door. “It’s called ‘peripheral vision.’”
Ivonne’s face ran red with embarrassment. “Y-Yeah, if you want to do it the STUPID WAY!”
The three crowded around the door, composing themselves for the no doubt dangerous situation ahead. They nodded the usual acknowledgments, said silent prayers, and…knocked on the door. Silence followed, finally being broken up by the sound of rushing feet and alien cursing. Finally, the door swung open, revealing a flustered old man holding what resembled a mop. “What do you want?” he snapped.
“Um…is this…Lady Deralin’s house?” asked Val.
The man simply stared at the three, no doubt figuring out which horrible fates to wish upon them. “Yes, THIS IS her home. THIS IS her maid you’re talking to. And if THIS IS not important business, then by the First Matriarch, I’ll slam you from here to the Agrei Wetlands! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!”
Ivonne started running in the opposite direction, only stopping when Val grabbed her by the throat and dragged her back down. “Oh, it’s very important. It’s about her…um…girlfriend?”
The man smiled, the evil kind of smile that could kill kittens from a hundred yards away. “Oh, you mean that annoying snot she hangs out with? Yeah, they decided to redecorate the kitchen with melon pulp last night, and who gets to clean it up? ME!”
“O…Okay, then where are they?”
“They left for the palace thirty minutes ago! Want to see them? COME BACK TOMORROW!” And with that, he slammed the door so hard the sheer impact send the three sprawling back a few steps.
MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE PALACE…
Gemini and Deralin sat in the lavish reception room. The room, much like the palace itself, was a strange mix of familiarity and alien architecture. The walls were plastered a deep purple hue, and when combined with the magical flaming braziers on the ceiling, worked to create a blinding cornucopia/localized solar flare. The furniture was carved out of some Ionian wood whose name Gemini didn’t care to remember, but was way out of the price range for just about every other living being on the planet. As for the rest of the furnishings…well, they were as gaudy as anything on Earth. Bad taste can be found everywhere in the universe, it seems.
Gemini was seated on a couch, bunched over, head in hands. Deralin, meanwhile, was busying herself with her spellbook, going through every exact step of their plan. The only noise to be heard was the dull, monotonous ticking of a large clock hanging above the single entrance door. There was another set of wooden portals, another one of those “hand crafted by hundreds of slave laborers” things you find in any hedonistically elaborate chamber, but it was strictly off limits to anyone that wasn’t currently ruling all of Iona. In other words, those two.
After a seeming eternity of stone-cold silence, Deralin finally noticed Gemini’s nervousness. “Oh, come on. We went over everything fifteen times already! We’ve got it down pat!”
“Well, excuse me if I’m a little worried here. I mean, I’m in the middle of a palace, about to meet the same person that, if you don’t remember, WANTED TO KILL ME?!”
Deralin waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, please. That was when…”
“And what if this doesn’t work? You said anyone this…First Matriarch possesses dies in minutes. And even then, how do we make sure it possesses the right body? Oh, and what if she RECOGNIZES ME?! Ever thought of [i]that{/i]?”
Their thoughts were interrupted when the double doors opened, revealing the red-robed form of the Matriarch. No bodyguards, no soldiers, nothing else but the old woman and the unbridled power she held. Gemini immediately slid off the couch and into a crouch, while Deralin simply threw her book down and stood straight up, as rigid as a telephone pole. The Matriarch, for her part, made no attempt to diffuse the nearly-strangulating tension, simply standing there and regarding both figures with a mixture of contempt and general apathy.
Finally, her eyes made their way to the still-kneeling Gemini. “Is this the girl, Deralin?”
“Y-Yes, Matriarch.”
“Have you explained the process to her?”
“Yes.”
The cold sneer softened quickly. “Very well. Stand, young one.”
Gemini pulled himself upwards, until he was almost eye level with the Matriarch. He had never actually seen the woman this close before; the last time she was in public, his brother and former teacher were actually trying to fight her. Now, away from the frantic screams and curses of battle, he saw what might very well be the most powerful force on Iona. And it scared the piss out of him.
The Matriarch’s eyes fluttered open in surprise. She scanned every waking inch of Gemini, most especially the face. Finally, she turned back to Deralin. “Is this the friend you’ve been talking about? The one living with you?”
Gemini darted Deralin the classic “I will beat you down for this, I swear” sneer that has started many a sitcom laughtrack. Deralin squirmed slightly as she responded. “Er…Uh…Yes, Mothe- I mean, Matriarch.”
The Matriarch looked at the still-transgendered girl, then back at Deralin. “Why didn’t you tell me she was this lovely?” Deralin’s jaw dropped, while Gemini felt his ego shrinking even more. “And you are certain she is okay with this?”
“Yes, Matriarch.”
Do I get a say in this? thought Gemini. Fortunately, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut for the time being.
“Very well, then,” said the Matriarch. “Follow me to the basement. Time grows short.”
MEANWHILE, BACK ON THE STREETS…
“We are officially lost.”
Weilla quickly folded up the map and handed it back to Esker. The valkyrie, meanwhile, was still busy trying to figure out the city’s maze-like layout. Ivonne, meanwhile, was freely conversing with the locals; the sheer number of slap marks appeared to faze her little. They could easily make out the palace (it appeared to stand several dozen feet taller than any other building in town), but in the short time since the last map’s creation, so many walls and roads had sprung up that the entire thing seemed more like an eternal trap.
“This isn’t what I signed up for at all,” Esker bemoaned. “I wanted to bash some alien heads in, maybe screw a few on the side, and get back in time to dump that tub of radioactive waste on Glenton’s face. Wandering around a rat maze is NOT how I wanted to waste my Sunday.”
“Don’t worry. Given our track record, you’ll be surrounded by a mountain of corpses in the next fifty minutes.”
Ivonne suddenly came running back, holding a small napkin with scribbled directions. “Hey guys! I think I found a way to the palace!”
Esker snatched the paper out of her hands, rolling her eyes slightly as she did so. Before long, however, their faces turned to pure surprise. Weiila opened up their own map, and sure enough, the directions matched perfectly. “Wow! How did you get these, Ivonne?”
A FEW MINUTES EARLIER…
Ivonne finished tracing down the parade route, and bolted off before the kiosk operator could see her.
BACK IN THE PRESENT…
“Oh, I have my ways…”
MEANWHILE, BACK AT DEEP 14…
GG Crono, Pierson and Martinez continued to watch the monitors, desperate for any positive updates on the mission’s progress. Sadly, all they could see were the three girls huddling back together, with no sign of Gemini or the Matriarch. The whole spectacle was so disappointing, demigod had already excused himself to go watch Dr. Forrester and Frank race go karts with mounted bobble heads of David Hasselhoff and that fat guy from “Wings” around the back cave. And no, they weren’t asking why they chose those particular heads, or why they kept silently screaming for release from a nightmarish existence. Finding that one guy that hadn’t really done anything of importance over the last two years was a far more pressing matter.
“Well, we can label this whole thing a bust so far,” said GG Crono. “Once again, our intel has failed us.”
“Something’s wrong,” muttered Martinez. Pierson’s glare shifted towards the Puerto Rican. “The Ionese place a lot of their reputation on their cultural history. And part of that is the capital’s infrastructure, especially in the market district they’re in right now. Last time I checked, you couldn’t build anything in those places, least of all a road. Furthermore, the new walls are blocking off shortcuts to the palace.”
“So what?” asked GG. “They’re probably just setting up security or something.”
“No, that’s not it,” said Martinez. “During my first visit to Iona, they had the exact same configuration. The same walls, the same roads, everything. A few hours later, I was running from some guards, and-”
“Guards?”
“Erm…I was…okay, I got caught sneaking into a High Mage’s daughter’s bedroom.” Cue dirty old man blushing. “But enough about that. I was chased to a far end of the city, and by the time I managed to get back, the walls were gone, the roads were being paved over, and everything was like it should be. The only thing I could find were some ribbons and a few banners.”
“You mean…this is a parade route?”
“None of these things are new. Their only purpose is to make sure the Ionese see how wonderful the Matriarchs are. But there’s another problem. They just HAD their annual parade. The only time they have two in the same year is…”
“Hey guys! They’re moving out again!”
