The Hero's Companions

“Yessi! Is that you? Beautiful as ever!”

“Guards!” Yessi cried as Gougou ran to her.

Two headless armored beings blocked Gougou's path and line of sight from the red carpet and the futon throne it led to. The figures had no heads, eyes, or mouths, or at least any present. Like rooks on a chessboard, they blocked the pawn from crossing. The Queen coiled her way around the two beasts to meet with Gougou.

“I apologize for the introduction in this way, but I have most of the Throne Room booby-trapped for outsiders. Here.”

The pale lamia in flowing silks pressed a long white hand to the dog-folk's pawed one, placing a ward ring in his palm.

“So good at detecting enemies, you had to start making your own, huh?” Gougou joked while recovering from his welcome shock.

“I do no such thing! The enemies of my lord have not vanished, only become harder to detect.”

Yessi's small nostrils flared as she straightened her form and stared down Gougou with sharp gold eyes, piercing through the beads of her Mianguan.

Gougou disarmed the suspicious queen with an embrace.

“It's great to see you too, Scales.”

To perhaps her own surprise she accepted it, but immediately twisted herself free to direct the guest up the steps.

Gougou and friends had seen many a royal court. From the harsh iron torches of the demon lord, to the gilded opulence of The Episcopacy. But this room resembled none of those. Woven mat floors, plain white panels, unframed portraits and sliding doors, all made from the finest materials. Somehow too simple, yet more decadent. This could only come from his mind. An apartment fit for a King, and there he was enthroned, slouched on a gilded mahogany futon. Takeshi sat glancing at the glowing black rectangle. Stopped to look up at the dog man and gave a weak but pained smile.

“You look... well - mature,” Takeshi said.

Opulence had not suited his friend well. While not fat like the old Episcopope, his life of stress and sweets had eroded his face and hairline.

“What's with the crystal?” Takeshi asked, looking at the charm around his neck.

Gougou held it in his hand.

“This thing? Nothing! My wife made it for me to ward off charisma magic. So tricking me into anything stupid,! At least without buying me some beer first!”

“You're married?” Takeshi asked, eyeing the once dog-boy up and down, the smile drooping for a moment.

Gougou laughed with hands on his hips.

“Well, I couldn't let you get all the girls, Bossman! Met her on my envoy to the beastfolk tribes. Figured I’d grab her before she joined your harem.”

Takeshi performed a chuckle to acknowledge the joke. His glance cut between Gougou and the black rectangle in his hand. Behind Takeshi and his futon was a wall of woven canvas, where unframed pictures were fastened in by golden nails.

These crisp and clear images, each no larger than a book cover, showed young women in various poses. Each had a handwritten name, a signature and a heart.

“Kyan! I thought I was joking about that harem thing.”

Some pictures showed youthful joviality, some showed energy, some showed too much bare skin. Gougou caught himself looking at one such image of Yessi, and his eyes scrambled for a safe haven. Yessi spoke with a fervor perhaps tinged with embarrassment.

“This is the path to uniting this realm, Gougou. Real unity, not the zeal of the Episcopope or Demon Lord’s fear, but love. With every bride, Takeshi–”

“Yessi, damn it, please don't talk about this right now!”

Gougou heard his friend's voice break. On the lap of the distraught god-king in a silken tracksuit was a face-down photograph. Takeshi put his hand on it, unsure of whether to crumple it or put it away gently. Whichever he was planning, he wouldn't dare flip it over to look at it.

“Mister Bossman, what happened?”

“Lorelei,” Takeshi said.

“Lorelei?”

“The mermaid princess. You and Takeshi met her on the docks of South Sluishaven. After you three fought and captured me.” Yessenia added.”

“Whoa! That redhead siren with a great rack!”

Gougou smiled before immediately regretting it.

“She's dead, Gougou. Dead! In my house! I can't resurrect her!”

Takeshi went back to his divine tablet, busying himself with magical disbursements for his managerial projects.

“Takeshi found her after the ball, He came to visit her and... well.”

“How did she die?”

“They found... her... She was... sorry, Yessi, explain it to him!”

“Of course, my Lord.” The Lamia turned to Gougou, as the visibly agitated Hero gripped the edge of his chair. “We found her outside of her tank, lying on the bed. There were no signs of struggle, and she had a poison-laced scarf gently wrapped around her gills.”

“Poison?” Gougou asked.

“Yes, clove oil mixed with some puffer fish venom. Aquatic peoples use the former medicinally, and the latter recreationally. She suffocated while unconscious. Painless. Likely suicide.”

Gougou sniffed and formed a scowl. Takeshi interrupted.

“Or Treachery. Suicide and victim of treachery are two restrictions to resurrection! It can't be suicide. Why our bed? Why, when I was going to meet her!”

"She was prone to theatrics, my Lord. Is it that hard to believe?"

"I forbid that talk in my presence!"

Gougou interrupted.

“With respect, Yessi. How do you know so much about what can kill her?

The Lamia woman straightened her purple-scaled body out, then moved one hand to where most humans would have a hip.

“I am Lamia; poison is in my blood! You didn't have a problem with my dungeon expertise when I saved you from that orcsbane dart!”

Gougou held up his hands in a gesture of non-violence.

“Just doing my job, Scales.”

A smile crawled up Yessi's face, and she tilted her head with a grin.

“Of course! Well, since my lord insists this be opened into an investigation, I grant you full access. I would only ask that you be careful. Oh, and don’t tell anyone about the poisons. The palace already has a narcotics problem. The last thing we need is creativity...”

A glass door beside the throne opened, and three serpents emerged. The tallest, a girl no higher than Gougou's waist, slithered forward. Back perfectly straight, and chin up. Behind her, a smaller boy and girl followed in close step, pushing a large rolling cart together.

The daughter looked up to her mother. Following a nod of approval, she presented herself to the enthroned hero, lost in his work.

The child spoke with the overly practiced poshness that one expects from children playing dress-up, while the intensity of the child's face showed the seriousness children take towards these games.

“Takeshi Otosoma. Permit me, Yu...sssuki, first in my class, to present to you this morning’s sustina-sustinse-um-meal.”

Takeshi accepted the soup and ate in silence, reviewing the events of the world on his device. Petitioners already lined the door.

“Mother sayss we shan't dissturb the father when he has important duties.”

A small hand grabbed Gougou. He looked down to see the snakelet looking up to him with an expression of learned seriousness.

Gougou tried his best to stifle a laugh as Yuzuki's tongue involuntarily popped out with every S and Z. The little fangs had outgrown their faces, giving all of the children an appearance more rabbit than snake. Gougou squatted on his knees to bring himself to the child's eye level.

“Do you know where the other heroes are? Can I see them?”

“Oh no! No other heroes are in the palace. Important business!”

“Just Betsy then?”

“Well, yeah but.. My mother doesn't like her very much.”

“Now why would she like a sweetheart like Betsy-kyan?”

“Well, there was that fight some months ago and–”

Yuzuki's voice crawled back into her throat as both looked up to the poisonous glare of Yessi, peering through the beaded Mianguan beads.

“Apologies Dog-ssempai, I cannot diss-closse sstate ssecrets to outssiderss.”

Yuzuki's tail whipped Gougou's ankle as she sped to the door as fast as her snake body could carry her.

Gou-gou, with rear firmly planted on the floor, looked up to the glowering lamia queen with an innocent chuckle.

“Well, you asked me to investigate, didn't you?”

“You were brought in to investigate a death; kindly keep out of irrelevant affairs.”

Gougou held his hand out for help. Receiving none, he pushed his body back up from his knees to meet Yessi eye to eye.

“Let's get something straight, Scales! I’m here because Takeshi needs help. You trusted me enough to bring me over here? If you don’t trust me enough to look out for him, I’ll leave right now.”

Both turned to the figure slouched on his Futon, children trying to gain his attention. Yessi broke the silence.

“Of course, anything you need. But If I might offer a suggestion, you should speak with the cleaning staff before they fully clean the crime scene.”

Both dropped their shoulders as the tension subsided.

“Where can I find them?”

The dilapidated mansion, which the adventurers once called home, was preserved by taxidermy. The parlor where Takeshi had gathered the liberated beastfolk into an army was gone, the fireplace and destroyed upholstery replaced with powerful new magic furnaces, water boilers, and pipes. The cratered backyard where the mages practiced their destruction magic was paved flat for all manner of carts and crates. As for the house itself, the smell and sounds prickled Gougou's whiskers. The old mustiness and adventurers' sweat was buried in gallons upon gallons of antiseptics and detergents.

“Can I help you, sir?”

Gougou's bittersweet reminiscing was interrupted by a cold, pure voice. His ears pulled back.

“Yes, my apologies, I am looking for the... SAINTESS?!”

It was impossible not to recognize her; so much of his life was surrounded by her stained glass windows and statues. Serafina the Steadfast, Saintess of the Episcopacy, dressed as a sexy maid with a white apron.

“If you have come for church business, I am afraid there is little I can do, as The Hero disbanded it.”

“I'm here to investigate the death of Lorelei."

The saintess rolled her eyes and brought Gougou to a room that was once their armory. There, among the shelves of clothing, was a horned woman with yellow eyes sorting through piles of intimates.

“It’s the Hero’s Lapdog, Oh Villanor, Lewd Queen of Lingerie." The saintess mocked the horned figure in the room.

Serafina and Villanor worked side by side in inverted clothing: the Demon Lord wearing white with a black laced apron, both with large garment windows to showcase their ample bosoms and slave tattoos.

Gougou's tail found its way between his legs as he stood mouth open and whale-eyed. The Demon Lord, queen of darkness, stood impatiently and tapped her hooved feet. Gougou’s mind still saw her upon her dark throne of Castle Kilumol, only now to see her sorting clothes in the house where they once cowered from her.

“The mermaid?” The demon lord belted out. “Yeah, I just cleaned the room. No blood, so that was nice of her.”

“I'm looking into the possibility that it was murder. Was there anyone who could have wanted her dead?”

The Saintess in white lace and the Demon Lord in black lace laughed. They laughed hard. They shared the malicious laughter of those who had seen too much, before recognizing the laughter in each other's hearts. That shut them up. The two immediately stopped laughing to look away at a corner, grabbing their drooping shoulders as they did so. The saintess spoke low, head down.

“Everyone wanted her dead.”

“You mean someone has tried to kill her before?” Gougou asked impatiently.

“Let’s just say, my bleach is guarded like a Level 20 dungeon now.”

“Seraf, remember the time someone tried to suck her through the filter blades?”

The two chuckled at the memory; Gougou felt a knot form in his stomach.

“What do you mean everyone wanted her dead? Everyone! Takeshi? Yessi? Betsy? You!”

“Well, not Takeshi-senpai obviously.” Villanor rolled her red eyes, crossing her arms as the saintess returned to sorting bras. “Lorelei had been catching the favor of Takeshi-sempai for the past few months. Lots of little gifts, lots of evening visits.”

“Lots of extra hours getting that fish smell out of Sempai's clothing,” grumbled the saint, sorting panties by color and species.

“Who would be angry about that?”
“Everyone.” The two replied flatly.

“Ok, so everyone could have killed her last night.”

“No, most were at the ball.”

“Who wasn’t?”

“Takeshi and the ‘Original Companions’ left early,” Grumbled the saintess. “The god-hero doesn’t appreciate his worshippers.”

“So Yessi is his wife, so was she mad about him visiting Lorelei?”

The saintess scoffed and snorted, the demon lord flung a ball of socks into her hand and took over.

“My traitorous ex-underling? Takeshi doesn't do anything here without her planning it weeks in advance, and Takeshi had a fairly empty schedule during the sex strike.”

“The Harem had a sex strike?” Gougou asked. The Demon Lord growled at the interruption, while skeletons took away a cart of meticulously organized undergarments.

“Yeah. After Yessi's third batch of hatchlings. Betsy joked about Yessi's perfect timing during dinner. Some of the other companions started to believe Yessenia was deliberately scheduling them against their cycles. It was a whole thing. And Lorelei …”

“Went against Yessi?” Gougou interrupted again.

“Worse, she chose to play Takeshi’s little love-scab, and that pitted her against the whole palace. Got so bad that Betsy became her unofficial bodyguard and started sleeping in her quarters for protection.”

“This whole palace is rife with sin,” the saintess remarked mostly to herself, staring sadly at a pair of blue and white striped panties. The saint stared at the bejeweled panties, lost in thought, before putting them away.

“You know, now that I think about it, this reminds me of that uprising in Woolenbergen. I had the Hero captured when the city erupted into chaos. Peasants protested our tithes, Merchants protested old sanctions, long-settled heresies popping up. Before we knew it, the hero was gone like divine intervention.”

Gougou gave a soft chuckle at the warm memory.

“Divine? Oh no, that was just Betsy. She only knows a bunch of cantrips and low-level social spells, but when you combine that with her street smarts, she can work up a crowd...”

The laughter died in Gougou's throat as his tail stiffened. Both he and the saint faced the floor, thinking through the ramifications of what he had just said.

“Betsy was behind the strike, wasn't she?”

The Demon Lord cackled. “Well, that would explain the baby bump… Hey! Wait, dog! Where are you going?”

“Open Lorelei’s quarters; I need to smell the room!”