Zovar the Great slipped for the third time that day, losing his balance and falling to the ground. Of course, it didn’t matter much because he was on the Moon, but it was annoying as hell nonetheless.
Gently floating to the ground, Zovar sat there for a moment, letting the low gravity settle him down. He looked up into space.
It occurred to Zovar that the vacuum of space prevented anyone from actually hearing him. There really was no point for him to be saying anything at all.
Zovar decided that he didn’t care. He liked that word. He’d been saying it a lot since he got here.
“You fall on your ass again, master?”
“Fuck off, Maldado.”
The impassive face of his rock daemon wandered in front of his view. Zovar imagined that the cheeky little bastard was probably smiling on the inside. He couldn’t actually smile on the outside, since he was a moving pile of rocks, but he swore that the thing could do it anyway, just to spite him.
Zovar stood up slowly, and unsteadily. Stupid low gravity messing with his balance. How the hell was he supposed to do a good solar empowerment ritual when he couldn’t walk properly? Not to mention the fact that nobody had ever considered what the sun’s movement was like from the Moon, which messed up all his measurements.
Sighing, Zovar checked to make sure his breathing spell was still working, and decided to give up for the third day in a row. He had to get back to the shop. He wondered why he bothered. People almost never came by.
He fell again as he was walking back to the shop.
“There you go, Master, that’ll solve the problem.”
“Fuck off, Maldado.”
Back in the shop, Zovar muttered as he straightened some goods for the twentieth time. Oh sure, it had seemed like a great idea at first. Expand the wizardry shop! We need to penetrate underrepresented markets? Underrepresented markets? How about the Moon?
Zovar grit his teeth as he readjusted some dried newts hanging from the ceiling. Maybe the Moon was underrepresented because no one lives on the fucking Moon, Dad.
Well, Zovar mused. He supposed he did now. He grit his teeth again, squeezing one of the newts hard enough to crush the thing.
A small tinkling sound greeted his ears, as he perked up slightly. Zovar spun around quickly, letting go of the newt.
Zovar wasn’t sure how it was possible in a non-human, but this creature somehow managed to pull off looking scruffy. It shuffled into the shop, oozing a liquid that Zovar decided he didn’t want to touch. He pointed a finger at the ground, and a small sparkle shot from his finger to the ground.
The creature looked at him with something that Zovar assumed was its eye. “Dude. What’d you just do?”
“I cast a spell because I don’t want that slime seeping into the floor.” Zovar grit his teeth. He needed to find a good space dentist.
“Oh no man, no worries, this stuff’s all natural. S’good for you. Wanna try some?” The creature raised a quivering tentacle, with some more of the liquid glopping off of it. Zovar recoiled in disgust.
“I’ll…pass. Welcome to Zovar the Great’s Mystical Emporium, devoted to supplying all of your arcane or eldritch needs. Can I help you with anything?”
Zovar tried his best to look cheerful, but the creature was already looking around, ignoring him.
“So like…you got any continuum transfunctioners around here? My ship broke down man, needs a new one.”
Zovar grit his teeth. “No, we do not sell continuum transfunctioners. This is a magical shop, not a mechanic’s shop.” He drummed his fingers on the countertop. “I’d be happy to assist you with some portal spells or teleport scrolls if you so wish.”
“Nah, man, s’cool. Man, this stuff is like, retro. Cool.” The tentacled mass was flailing around some tentacles. Zovar winced. He raised his palm, casting the spell on every surface of the shop just to be safe.
“It is not ‘retro,’ sir, it is an array of tools that would help one to channel the limitless power of the arcane arts.”
“Do you do parties, man? My niece would love this stuff, bro.”
Zovar grit his teeth so hard he could literally hear them grind. “No, I do not do parties. The mystical powers I command at my beck and call are not made for parlor tricks.”
“Oh. That’s a shame.” The creature looked around more. “Sure you don’t have any continuum transfunctioners?”
Zovar was tempted to simply cast a bolt of hellfire and obliterate the creature where it stood. He decided against it, partly because it probably had some stupid immunity to fire, and also because he would probably destroy his entire shop.
“Why don’t you try the automechanic over on the far side? All robotic.”
“Oh, man, that’d be great! Thanks.” The creature looked around ponderously for a moment. Zovar simply stared at the thing, wondering why it wouldn’t just leave him alone.
“Sure would be handy to have a continuum transf-”
A portal suddenly opened up underneath the alien, causing the creature to fall through, with one tentacle still gripping the edge of the portal. Below it, the shrieks of eldritch abominations and long forgotten monsters greeted it, howling into the small space of the shop. The smell of brimstone and sepsis filled the air, poisoning every breath taken, and announcing the presence of death.
Zovar floated up slightly off the ground, his eyes glowing red. He looked with fury upon the creature, his hands outstretched in front of him. “Begone you foul creature. Join the menagerie of souls that I have chained to my command, and feel the grasp of pure terror as you lose your soul to my will.”
“Aw man, I really just wanted a-”
“BEGONE!” Zovar clapped his hands in front of him, closing the portal and slicing off the lone remaining tentacle. Soon, he was left in the shop, his head pounding, and the detached tentacle flopping around, spraying the slime everywhere.
The head of Maldado peeped over the counter of the shop, gazing at the scene.
“Master, I think you need to rethink your customer service strategy.”
“Fuck off, Maldado.”
Zovar was floating in the air, meditating in an attempt to relax. The slime had turned out to be extremely acidic, and his spell hadn’t completely stopped that. After 4 expletive laden hours of cleaning, he needed a break.
It would all be worth it. Soon.
He opened his eyes, and slowly stood up. He made his way to the backroom where he nominally stored goods (not that he ever needed to reshelve), but where his most prized possession lay.
In the center of the room lay a small summoning circle with an inky black box on it. He flicked a finger, and the box’s lid came off. Inside were a few ovular, scaly eggs, each the size of his head. They each possessed different colors, one with the deepest shade of ruby, another a light shade of cream, and still another a beautifully textured sapphire. He picked up the ruby one, admiring the way the light shined off the beautiful exterior of it.
Maldado came rumbling in through the door.
“You know what these are, Maldado?”
Zovar held up a finger. “Ah…but not just any eggs. These ones are special. I bought these a long time ago, and I've been waiting to hatch them for quite some time now."
“What kind of eggs, master?”
“A very unique magical creature called a Kimanjo. You see, on Earth, Kimanjo are terrifying fiery beasts, capable of using magic on their own, if they’re bound to a sufficiently powerful wizard. To hatch them, you have to give it a tremendous amount of heat, somewhere in the range of lava from a planet.
Zovar lifted the box, showing a hole in the ground that seemed to go on forever.
“You see, silly Maldado, I’ve spent a lot of time and money constructing a tube that reaches just into the mantle of the Moon. This will suck up the Moon’s lava, superheating these eggs and hatching not one, not two, but three nigh-unstoppable fiery beasts that will enable me to conquer th-”
“The Moon’s mantle is rock.”
Zovar paused, looking at Maldado. “What?”
“The Moon’s mantle isn’t like the Earth’s, it’s solid rock for most of it. No lava, master.”
“B-but, there has to be lava in the-”
“Like a thousand times deeper than what you have now, maybe. Didn’t you pay attention in high school science?”
Zovar sunk to his knees, quivering. The egg rolled out of his hand.
“Go ahead Master, I know you want to say it.”
Zovar raised his head toward the ceiling, closing his eyes.