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27 - Reversal (Lennud)

"You serve ME now."

What little of the ram's face was visible through the slits of the pitch-black helmet had turned the shade of darkest night, his eyes burning with white flame. The red panda was powerless to resist the corruptive influence of the ram's dark magic as it poured into his mind and body through the armoured glove clamped against his face. The mage's eyes turned the same flaming shades, and his fur darkened to the colour of ash. The fear and pain vanished from his face, changing to a cold, blank expression. The new slave knelt before Kanthus, the Prince of Night.

"What is your command, my master?" The supplicant panda asked, his face still clutched in the ram's fist.

"Lead me to Ocimum Basilicum," Kanthus said, not a hint of mirth or softness in his voice. "You know the way, don't you worm?"

"Yes, my master."

Kanthus pushed the panda away, letting him sprawl out on the floor.

"Lead on, whelp."

The red panda's expression was a fearful and reverent one. The corruptive magic had well and truly gripped his mind. The minds of Ocimum Basilicum's minions were supposed to be like steel traps. But then, they had never dealt with someone as powerful and omnipotent as Kanthus. That foppish little rabbit's domain would soon belong to Kanthus, and from there, no one would be able to stop him from bathing the world in everlasting, painful darkness.

The process of taking the minds of every single one of the rabbit-king's minions would be a laborious one, but his soldiers had crushed their resistance already. The sheer numbers of his army had been enough to totally overwhelm King Basil's castle as though it was made of tissue paper. Plenty of prisoners had been taken, and would be converted along with their master.

The labyrinthine castle was a breeze to navigate with the aid of this little panda mage, and soon the ram and his most elite captains were striding through the gilded halls of Basil's throne room. As the panda entered, he was wreathed in dark flame, growing in height until he looked exactly the same as the rest of his new master's captains.

The lavender rabbit had not even bothered to put on any protective armour. He was dressed as ridiculously as always, in some strange skin-tight bodysuit with gloves and boots to match. Like a second-rate dancer in a third-rate dive.

He looked terrified too. There wasn't a hint of that malicious glee that Kanthus was expecting. That elicited a low chuckle from him as he moved forward, his great and terrible blade scraping a long, shrill gash along the gilded marble floor as he approached.

"Where's King Basil?" Kanthus asked, though he knew the answer.

"You villain!" The rabbit wailed, pointing a quivering finger towards the armoured servant that had once been his panda mage. "You've defiled my dear little minions and turned them into boring brutes!"

"Pathetic." Kanthus bellowed a laugh as he advanced, his captains surrounding Basil's throne. "Think you I care for these pawns? They are not for my entertainment. They are means to an end. A means to take power."

He closed the gap between the pair, towering over the whimpering whelp. A wicked, canine-toothed smile could be seen in the darkness of the sheer obsidian helmet.

"And now, I will take yours."

Basil shrieked when the sizzling armoured glove met his face, the dark corruptive pouring through his veins and turning the pale pink fur the deepest black. One more for his horde.

"This is how you end, Ocimum Basilicum," Kanthus cackled. "You will be just another pawn, a cog in my war machine of darkness..."

"N-no....!" Basil choked and wailed, his hands grasping and scrabbling at the armoured hand to little avail. "Y-you can't..."

"I can. I am. And you will serve ME now."

"S-serve... yes..." Basil seemed to be giving in, the darkness pooling around his eyes as his buck-teeth sharpened... "I must serve you, musn't I; after all, you are my guest..."

"What?"

Kanthus didn't have time to react. Basil's writhing painful grimace - or maybe it was just a facade of pain - melted away, shortly before the rest of him melted in Kanthus' grasp. Instead of the rabbit, a tall ornate glass filled with bright pink liquid was now grasped in the Dark Prince's hand.

"You dare mock me?!" He bellowed, rearing up to fling the glass goblet aside. But he could not. It was so delicate and beautiful, and it would have been rude not to...

"Not at all, dear friend, we don't need to rush to the end!" King Basil's voice echoed from all around Kanthus, and as the armoured prince glanced around the halls, he saw that all of his captains had drinks of their own. They already were raising them in a raucous toast that almost seemed effeminate.

"Do not drink those!" Kanthus shouted. "I command you to-to-"

His soldiers were drinking deep gulps, their armour sloughing off of them and revealing their original selves. When they pulled the cups away from their lips, they refilled in an instant, and they squealed with delight. With their armour discarded were dressed down to their undergarments, giggling laconically and toasting each other for another drink, and another, and another.

"Stop!" Kanthus screamed at them, his eyes burning with dark incandescence. "Do not take another sip of-"

"It's rude not to partake." Basil's voice was at the prince's ear, his hands on his shoulders. They scraped claws along his pauldrons, but he could feel his massaging touch right down to his core. Take a sip. Take the load off, dear Prince, you don't need to convince yourself it's not safe..."

His arm was moving independently of his body. A small hollow piece of straw pushed past his visor and into his lips. The sweet tang of the potion was unlike anything he'd ever tasted. Cold and tart, an incredible relief from the heat and weight of all that armour. He moaned, and the armour fell away, revealing the youthful appearance of the imposing ram.

"Oooh, you're just a little boy!" Basil cooed, floating in front of Kanthus and giving his cheeks a pinch. Kanthus would have wrung his neck, if he wasn't having another draught of that delicious punch.

"Would you like seconds?" Basil pointed his finger at the almost empty glass, and it refilled in an instant with the satisfying glug of the first pour from a wine bottle. Music to Kanthus' ears. He giggled. The sound disturbed him. Basil laughed, and it was just about the sweetest thing he'd ever heard.

"Oh ho, where did all that confidence go? All that bravado and bluster, and you couldn't even muster the slightest defense in that wide-open mind of yours. That wicked resolve has all but dissolved."

Kanthus' knees felt weak. He stumbled and swayed on the spot even as he took another drink. He caught a glimpse of himself in Basil's eyes. His black wool was changing colour, turning bright pink... as was the fur of all his captains. They swayed against each other, pressing their thick pursed lips to each other with drunken, debaucherous hunger.

"I have to... hee.... get away..." he stammered, trying to stifle the girlish giggles bubbling from his throat.

"Don't fret," Basil tutted. "Your life's not over yet.

"In fact, a new chapter of your life has begun, at the service of your royal bun Ocimum Basilicum's buns~"

"N-no..." the despair was still visible in Kanthus' now-swirling eyes, even as his lips were curling into a betraying, big-lipped smile.

"Come now, you must have expected failure, little lamb." Basil's tone took on a darker one.

"You know who I am. King Ocimum Basilicum, the First, and the Last. The First love of your life, and the Last. You knew, deep down, that your fate was bound the moment you laid your eyes upon me. You wanted my head, but now I'm inside yours, and it's now under my dominion, my new himbo minion~"

"H-him...bo...?" Kanthus had never heard such a ridiculous term in his life.

"An air headed idiot, not a mean thought in that head, just happy go lucky and plucky~"

"Him...bo..." Kanthus had never heard such a perfect way to describe himself in his life.

His fur was pink, his eyes swirled pink, his pursed lips were bright pink... his thoughts were pink and squishy and soft. King Basil grabbed Kanthus' face and pulled him into a big, full-force kiss. The Pink Prince's legs buckled and twisted, his whole body lifting off the floor as he moaned into the kiss.

"Mmmm-wah!" Basil pulled away with a loud pop, leaving the massive sheep slumped in his svelte arms. Kanthus grinned dopily, drunkenly, his head lolling to look at the pretty hearts and stars swirling around his woozy head. Not a hint of that dark, demonic presence remained. Just a few sips of drink, and a deep draught of King Ocimum Basilicum's irresistible aura, and it was all locked away.

"Now, dear lamb, I think you owe my dear wah and all the other servants in my castle an apology for being such a meanie to them. Don't you think?"

"Heehee..." Kanthus giggled. "Like... yeah, I guess so..."

"Maybe a nice scrub of their feet with your tongue. That'll smooth things over, if you work them over~"

"Okay.... Sounds fun~!"

"No. NO! IT DOES NOT SOUND FUN! I DEMAND YOU RELEASE ME!"

The Dark Prince's soul raged and wailed helplessly. Kanthus was stuck just behind own gaze, a helpless spectator to the debasement that followed. He could taste their flesh on his tongue. The pleasure he derived from it scared and humiliated him. This was not how his campaign was supposed to end. This was not how he would spend the rest of his life. It couldn't be.

... if it was, though, would that really be such a bad thing?

In time, as his old resolve faded away, Kanthus would come to decide that empty headed, hedonistic servitude was very pleasant indeed. Better to serve at King Basil's feet then reign as a boring tyrant.