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Prolog
In a galaxy far far away, there lay nine planets ruled by the necrolord prime. He was known to outsiders as a kind of God by the name John, or more commonly, Jod. As his immortal lyctors fell to resurrection beasts, a new crop of immortals was desperately needed. As Jod reviewed possible candidates, a queer pattern kept forming. Necromancers and cavaliers time after time falling into the throws of passion and sweet homosexual love. For what Jod needed from these soldiers, there was little room for love. So the Necrolord prime rewrote scripture to attempt to change the nature of humans. He put homophobia in the churches. Enforced gender roles in the military. Once this societal shift has taken over, He began the most bastardly thing of all. He started a gay conversation therapy camp to teach necromancers and cavaliers how to behave and become his lyctors. This is the story of the first attempt.
~~~~~~~~~
Harrowhark’s mind burned over the last few moments of her beloved ninth planet as she watched it blink away in the distant black void. It was her mother’s voice that kept tormenting her as she shifted in the stiff shuttle chair.
“In this house we worship the Necrolord Prime for he is the man who became god and we respect our sacred duty as his everlasting tomb keepers, Harrowhark Nonagesimus! I know the eighth house has their gossip that we are simply heretics, but they do not understand what it truly means to be of the ninth house. You should know better as our last great heir how important it is that you keep your mind pure. A daughter of the ninth should never let her love of the tomb or her cavalier be greater than her love for our empire. It is clear to your father and I what needs to happen next. You’re going to True Directions and getting this ridiculous homosexuality cured. I won’t have a daughter who neglects her duty with matters of the heart. For shame, Reverend daughter. You may only return once you have been cured at True Directions.”
Harrow’s mind short circuited so hard all she could think to herself was:
But I’m a necromancer??
~~~~~~~~~
The halls of the armory echoed with sweat drops, boot scuffs, and rapier blows. The grime black chamber shook as the large thud of Gideon Nav’s luscious ass made contact with the floor.
“For fuck’s sake Aiglamene! You’re going to break my arse at this rate. Could you take it down a NOTCH?”
Aiglamene had a distant look in her eyes as she wordlessly helped up Nav. Something was wrong. Aiglamene should be chewing out Gideon in her crusty evil ninth way.
“Again, Nav.” The old swordswoman had taken a stance across the room already.
It was Gideon who broke the tidy metallic silence of blows.
“Did one of the nuns put rotten snow leeks in your dinner last night?”
Clang clang
Aiglamene was on the defensive.
“Or perhaps Crux broke wind by your chambers and it stunk for hours?”
Aiglamene lunged for Nav. She blocked.
“Stop blocking all the damn time Nav! You’ll never be a halfway decent cavalier if you don’t learn how to dodge.”
Gideon was agitated now. Something was Very Wrong and Aiglamene wasn’t telling her what. She clashed blades while stepping forward in quick succession like how her mentor taught her. After Aiglamene’s parries, Nav lunged hard for her and landed not too far off from her intended mark. The practice blade lodged into Aiglamene’s shoulder and it was enough to upset the balance between her bad leg and the rest of her body. It was Aiglamene’s turn to almost break the floor with her ass. Gideon was too shocked to react and her mentor was already standing by the time she recovered. Nav couldn’t remember a day where she had completely knocked the old captain clean off her ass. Any other time, Nav would be hooting and gloating over the old goat but something in her gut told her this victory was not won by her efforts alone.
“I have trained you as best as I can, Nav. You’ll make a semi-decent cavalier for the ninth.”
“Aiglamene what the hell are you going on about? What’s wrong??”
The old captain chewed her lip and sighed as she put her hands on her hips.
“I overheard the Reverend Mother and Father. They want to send you to that damned True directions camp with the Lady Nonagesimus.”
“The what now?”
“You really are daft, girl. They think you’re corrupting their daughter because you’re a fruit. You’re so queer you make the nuns pray when you past by in the halls. You’re a flaming homosexual Nav, and homosexuals get straightened out at True Directions on the first planet,”
“W-what? I couldn’t corrupt the lady even if I tried. She has no eyes for me, only the tomb”
“Well your eyes need to be sharper than that if you’re going to survive that place,”
“And you’re just gonna let them send us there? To be fucking straightened out like a piece of laundry?” Gideon had no parents yet, the old captain was the closest thing she had to family. She could feel betrayal well up in her eyes and the taste of pennies in her mouth as she bit the inside of it.
“We serve the ninth house, Nav. I may not like every decision the Mother and Father make, but I will follow them til the day I die.” Aiglamene glanced around to make sure it was just them in the bowels of the armory.
“But between you and me…” Aiglamene coughed and it made such a strangled noise Nav was sure the old woman would drop dead before she showed her a shred of emotion. “I had a girl I loved once.”
“No,” Gideon was scandalized by the old goat’s confession.
“Don’t get distracted, Nav. Listen closely. Don’t let those people change who you are. Nod your head and go along with whatever crackpot shit they make you do. Do your duty and protect the lady when trouble arises. And maybe one day, when the Lady is powerful enough, you two can change things around here. I see the way you two look at each other. The bond that pulls you two together is stronger than the Necrolord Prime himself. I wish you luck for what is to come, Gideon Nav.”
Now things had gotten so completely wrong and weird that Gideon was sure she was having a horrible nightmare, like the ones she has where she’s trapped inside someone’s body who can’t remember who she is. But this was reality, standing before her in the form of an old scarred Captain who for the first time in her life showed her kindness and a sort of pride. Of all the crotchety dusty things in the ninth, she never expected to find this. Not after all the hell she’d been put through to be trapped on the damned planet. The sheer shock of finding out Aiglamene was gay was doing a number on Gideon brain functions as well.
“I- I am not gay for Nonigemus, I’m just her cavalier,” Was all she could stammer out. Aiglamene looked at her incredulously, one eyebrow raised, hands resting on her sword like a cane in front of her.
“Regardless, you will serve this house and it’s Lady, Gideon Nav. Now learn how to stop blocking all the damn time and dodge!” The old captain lunged for Gideon and she jumped out of her reverie and the blade’s way.
“Wait, wait back up. You had a girlfriend??”
Aiglamene smirked.
“I happened to be quite the handsome butch who made many nuns pray to themselves in my day.” She lunged for Gideon and had her on the ropes immediately.
“You’re gonna make me hurl, you crusty old bat.”
“Oh save it for the heterosexuals, daft girl.”
The two found themselves smiling despite Gideon’s looming fate. Whatever was at the first house, Aiglamene had prepared Gideon.
Chapter One
Eyes downcast to avoid the visual horror of the pastel heterosexual Canaan house, Harrowhark Nonigemus glimpsed up only to quickly absorb the wretched layout. The other young necromancers and cavaliers were still in the process of arriving despite the timed nature of their presence. Rusty shuttles painted infantaliziling shades of pink and blue moseyed their way one at a time up the planet’s docking pad, each one revealing the queer youths deemed the future of the nine houses.
What a damned farce. I am sworn to the tomb. I am the Reverend Daughter. To even question my faith and devotion… She muttered to herself, brow furrowed. A snicker from a certain fiery cavalier woke her from her religious lamenting.
“My crepuscular lady, if you keep that up your face will stick like that forever.”
“I will fuse the bones in your face together if you show me any disrespect, Griddle. I swear on the tomb.”
“Hey, hey no need to be hasty. I’m sure the program won’t be that bad. Maybe there will even be cute uniforms,” Nav bounced her eyebrows suggestively. Harrowhark sighed in disgust and turned away from the muscular girl. Those damn amber eyes had her repeating her prayers to herself most nights. It wasn’t fair. One girl shouldn’t have the ability to be HANDSOME and BEAUTIFUL. What was Nav thinking… the AUDACITY…
The Reverend Daughter woke from her queer musings as the two were approached by a young woman in a pastel wheelchair.
“Oh, welcome my new lovely duckies!! Welcome to True Directions! My name is Dulcinea Septimus but you can call me Dulcie hehe.”
The frail woman coughed blood into a handkerchief and with a cute flip of her hair continued on telling the two about the facilities. Harrow noticed Gideon pay closer attention and almost growled with how furious she was to be here.
“…and we have uniforms of course. Here’s yours~!”
She pulled two pink squares out of her chair’s backpack. They were pristinely pressed schoolgirl uniforms meant to make the girls look like pastel pink house wives.
Harrow couldn’t help but groan out loud at this injustice and even Gideon frowned at the horribly femme color. Not only was I, the reverend daughter, forced to come here under false pretenses of diagnosed homosexuality but now there were disgusting baby colored uniforms they had to wear?!
“Is this really necessary, Septimus? Surely we can be cured without the need for standardized infant apparel.” Harrow gestured at the uniforms, refusing to even touch the damned things.
“I said, call me Dulcie, my little darling. I think you’ll look cute in it if you give it a chance.”
Harrow had never been called cute a day in her life. Gideon moved to block her direct path to Dulcinea and grabbed the uniforms before the necromancer could tear the woman to tiny shreds of human cellular matter.
“Uhhh thanks for the duds, Dulcie. We’ll be on our way to the orientation now.”
“No problem, dears! Don’t forget, we’re meeting in the mess hall!”
Gideon could feel daggers being thrown at the back of her neck before she grabbed Harrowhark’s hand and pulled her away from the delicately beautiful seventh house native. Nav couldn’t see how hard Harrow was blushing under her intricate and deadly skull face paint and she wasn’t blushing from the compliment.
~~~
All attendees had changed into their uniforms and sat impatiently in a circle for the camp leader to arrive. Gideon and Harrow were nestled next to the sixth and third house who were flanked by the fourth and eighth house, as was noted by the name tags that came with the uniforms.
“Where’s the rest of the nine houses?” Gideon asked Harrow in a confused whisper.
“Didn’t meet age requirements or deserted like cowardly little chicken babies,” a shrill voice boomed across the room.
Necromancer and cavalier heads turned to see a woman in a pink pantsuit strut in, wielding a clipboard and pen as if she was born with it in her hands. She had fair gray yellow hair and seemed old and young at the same time. She was followed by Dulcie whose wheelchair was being pushed by a man in pastel blue jean shorts and tank top that read “straight is great!” He was obnoxiously sculpted into a perfect physique and had shiny blond hair. Gideon was ready to punch him from all the hair gel she could smell off of him. The camp crew took their seats in front of the exit which put Harrow at even more unease. Gideon was dying to comfort her necromancer in some way but if she showed even a shred of affection the pink pantsuit demon might smite her.
“Welcome to True Directions, infants! If you pass through the trials of this program and graduate a heterosexual, then you will be eligible to become one of the Necrolord Prime’s new Lyctors. I am Mercymorn the first. The program is simple, having only six steps. Today we will start with the first step: admitting you’re a homosexual. Dulcie if you’ll start us off.” The pink pantsuit demon gestured to Septimus.
“Hello everyone~! I’m Dulcinea Septimus of the seventh house and I’m a homosexual. Gosh that just keeps getting easier, Mercymorn.” She fluttered her soft eyelashes at the Lyctor. Gideon gulped. Aiglamene’s training had not prepared her for pretty ladies younger than the crones at the ninth house.
“Thank you, Dulcie. Naberius go,” Mercymorn nearly barked at the shiny man.
“I am Naberius Tern of the third house, current prized winning dualist in all the nine houses, and I’m a homosexual.” He flashed a smile full of perfect white teeth. There was a shifting in chairs near the eighth house members as cavalier and necromancer leaned in closer. The male sixth house member sighed and leaned back, crossing his legs. Mercymorn stared daggers of her own at the sixth house.
“Master Warden, you may go.”
He took off his glasses, revealing grey eyes that would pierce any young straight girl’s heart.
“Fine. I am Palamedes Sextus of the sixth house. I am a homosexual. Well, Bisexual but that doesn’t seem to be in the first house’s vocabulary.”
Mercymorn snapped her pen in half.
“I will not tolerate fruity nonsense in this program, Sixth house. You will pass the first step at a later time. Next!”
The other half of the sixth house seemed ready to jump at the Lyctor’s throat, but Palamedes’s soft hand resting on her arm stopped her.
“I am Camilla Hect of the Sixth House. I like girls and knives. I’m a homosexual.”
“Good, good. Everyone clap for Camilla and everytime a camper passes the first step,”
A meager clap rang out as eyes fell on Harrow and Gideon. Gideon piped up first.
“Hi. My name is Gideon Nav. I like big swords and I cannot lie. I serve the lady Nonagesimus. And I’m a homosexual.”
Harrow looked down right constipated. She needed to pass with more than flying colors at all times and here was a test she didn’t understand. She felt herself dying inside over and over again at the embarrassment of being sent to this wretched place that she didn’t belong in at all.
“I am the Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus and there’s been a mistake. I’m just a necromancer.” She folded her arms tightly.
Gideon didn’t know why she was surprised at all by her necromancer’s stubbornness but part of her heart sank thinking about what the implication of mistake meant. Mercymorn sighed and set aside her clipboard.
“Harrowhark Nonagesimus, you have been given a gift to come here. You are one of the top applicants to become the Necrolord Prime’s new Lyctor. You just need to start with your first step and admit what you are. You’re a homosexual. I can tell your cavaliver is already your little girlfriend in waiting for you to come to terms with what you are.”
That was the last straw. Harrowhark Nonagesimus threw bones out and in a fury with blood dripping from her ears, she summoned three constructs faster than Gideon had ever seen.
“Hah. Cute. You’re about to be on the first shuttle out of here little girl.” Mercymorn sensibly chuckled, clipboard back in her hands taking notes with a new pen supplied by Tern.
Fucked up circumstances be damned if Gideon was going to let Harrow throw away her place on the ninth as Reverend Daughter. She hated being in this damned place as much as any other gay but Aiglemene had given her a mission and she was going to follow it. That Lyctor and the Necrolord Prime had the ability to snap the two of them like fleshy twigs and she had to protect her lady. The lady, she corrected herself as she pulled out her rapier which still felt too damned light.
The skeletal constructs lunged for Mercymorn as she yawned into the back of her hand as if she had monstrous creatures of the undead leering for her every day. Which, thinking about the job description of a lyctor, she probably did. Gideon flanked the undead and put a boot through the first skeleton, smashing it to pieces and stabbing the second into the third like a skewer. Harrow was still seeing red and tried to push Nav out of the way but Gideon refused. There would be no home for Harrow if she didn’t do this.
“Lady Nonagesimus! You have to stop this! Think of the ninth and the tomb!”
Blood began to run from Harrow’s nose as she turned her anger to Nav. Gideon was bleeding from one of her biceps and upon seeing this, the wind blew out of Harrow. The skeleton’s crumpled to dust and returned to their bone chip form. Harrowhark huffed then returned to her chair. She gritted her teeth as she spoke.
“I apologize for my behavior, Mercymorn the First. I am the Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Gideon Nav is not my girlfriend. I will become a Lyctor and make the ninth proud. And I am a homosexual.”
Nav returned to her seat, having won the battle but broken her heart in the process. Harrow and her had never put their relationship into words but their rivalry was… something. Harrow was covered in dried blood, her rage causing the moisture around her to evaporate.
“Thank you for that lovely display, fetus, and passing your first step. I know it was very very hard. Let’s continue. Ianthe, sweetie, you’re up.”
“I am Ianthe Tridentarius of the third house. I like power, death, and girls. I’m a homosexual.” The sickly looking twin sat gracefully, beaming at Harrow. Harrow thought she was gloating with the ease of admitting her queerness but Gideon knew it was flirting. The ninth house was bloody jealous and having a very hard time of it at this True directions camp. Tridentarius’s twin sister and cavalier stood up.
“And I’m Coronabeth Tridentarius. I like knives and pretty swordswomen. I’m a homosexual.” Her smile glowed across the room. The sheer radiance stemming from her thick blond hair and tan skin made all sapphic cavaliers in the vicinity blush.
“Greetings sinners! I am Silas Octakiseron of the eighth house.” The young man flipped his long white braid. “I am a homosexual and determined to be cured of this foul disease.” He shoved a hand onto his cavalier, motioning him to go. The older man sighed. In fact he was much older than the rest of the group and only a tad older than the camp helpers.
“I am Colum Asht, cavalier primary to Master Octakiseron. I’m a homosexual.” He looked tired. He turned to the fourth house natives.
“Um, hello. I am Jeannemary Chatur, cavalier to Tettares of the forth house. I, uh, think I like girls. I’m a homosexual.”
“Hi. I’m Isabel Tettares, necromancer of the fourth house. I like girls too. I’m a homosexual,” Both teens of the forth house looked lost at why they were there despite confessing.
“Good job almost everyone! Everyone except the bitch baby Master warden has passed the first step. Reverend Daughter, we will have a talk later about what your penalty is for breaking camp rules. Now go get settled in your rooms, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Girls, you’re with me and Miss Septimus. Boys, you will be assisted by Naberius. Toodles!” The pink pantsuit demon smiled with a wave and strode out of the room.
Naberius and Dulcie moved to show the campers to their rooms. As the guys got settled into their shared quarters, Silas noticed movement outside his window. Palamedes stopped reading his book for a moment.
“What are you staring at?” the sixth house native asked.
“Nothing!!” Silas cried defensively. Now things are getting interesting, Palamedes thought as he approached the window.
There was Naberius Tern doing yard work. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary til Sextus noted somehow his denim shorts had gotten shorter and the way he was working his rake handle, was very… suggestive. He looked to where Tern was pointing his gaze and saw Column quietly watching from the porch.
“Now this is how you do man’s work!” Tern exclaimed, flashing that too white smile. He bent over to rake the dirty yard. Silas squeaked.
“Calm down kid, it's just an ass,” Sextus teased.
“I am not ogling Naberius Tern’s fruity rumpus ass, you nit!! I am looking… respectfully.”
“Respectfully,” Sextus repeated in deadpan.
“Yes!! I need to study men if I’m going to become a straight man.”
“Oookay. You do that Octakiseron,” Palamedes went back to reading. He had no interest in any of the men at this camp. Between lines of research he studied, his mind drifted to another man he held dear…