Fell Champions

Vex charged for Il-Su. She couldn’t see his facial features, so could only imagine the distortion in the air with a pair of widened eyes and an agape mouth as she went sailing through the air, both feet extended towards him in a dropkick. 

It would’ve been really cool if it landed.

Il-Su didn’t just sidestep it. He managed to grab onto Juala’s arm and pull her into the line of attack. Juala’s expression went from confusion to shock to anger in the space of a second. And then both she and Vex were on the ground, entangled with one another.

Il-Su didn’t let up. He was on them both immediately, knife plunging downwards. Vex intercepted it with her body, gladly taking stabs to the forearms and chest, preventing steel from finding Juala’s vulnerable flesh. 

And, more importantly, bleeding profusely all over her attacker. 

Vex might be able to see him just fine now, but Juala had no such luxury. And, as Il-Su made another forceful stab into the flesh of Vex’s bicep, she twisted her arm and pulled it back, taking the knife with it. She scrambled, throwing herself at Il-Su in a reckless attack that was meant to fail and give Juala a moment to get back to her feet, maybe think of a plan.

She didn’t need to wait long. She grappled Il-Su, grabbing his forearms in an awkward hold that she knew he’d break, but as she did, there was a weird sensation in her back and belly. Almost like…

She looked down. Yep. She’d been stabbed. But not by a knife.

The point of Juala’s spear had erupted from Vex’s abdomen, coated in blood, and the tip was embedded maybe two centimeters into Il-Su. It probably was only scratching his skin. Most of the spear’s penetration was held up by his armor.

But Juala’s voice sounded victorious as she said, “Gotcha, limpdick.”

And then the blade of the spear blazed with electricity, pouring through it and into Il-Su, sending him into a spasming wreck. He didn’t scream. He mostly just flopped around as lightning ravaged him, sending his K-Pop haircut to standing on end before sending him across the room in a boneless heap. He bounced twice and rolled before hitting the ground. 

Vex breathed a sigh of relief, which was harder to do with a spear sticking straight out of her. She awkwardly tried to turn her head to look at Juala.

“Hey, you mind pulling out?”

Juala snorted. “Never saw much use in pulling out.”

Vex had no idea how to interpret that until she figured out exactly how to interpret that, and blushed as hard as she could. 

Juala ripped the spear free, and Vex got to the business of patching herself up. Juala watched it all with one eyebrow raised.

“You a Fleshcrafter?” she asked.

“Yeah– wait, you didn’t know?”

“No, why would I?”

“You stabbed me. To get to him.”

“Yeah, but you’re Crio. Two crabs, one net. It worked out, didn’t it?”

“No wonder you don’t have any friends.”

“I have lots of friends.”

“Paying women for their time isn’t ‘friendship.’”

“It is if you’re leaving them as satisfied as I do,” Juala said with a smirk, before it turned suspicious. “You seem to know a lot about me, for someone I barely know.”

Vex stumbled. “Well, you know. Ma– Rua told me about you. And the Islands, and her whole family. I feel like I’ve known you all my life, all the stories I’ve heard.”

“Probably all bad,” Juala muttered.

Most of them were. But not all of them. Vex didn’t know how to reassure Juala she wasn’t quite so terrible when in fact she actually kind of was.

“We should check on… oh, wait, your bodyguard.” Vex looked about to Reyna, who was still bleeding on the ground, and hurried to her side.

She was already thinking of ways to try to seal the wounds, knit the flesh back together, maybe pull the blood back into her body. But that was an awful lot of blood. Could she bring someone back from the dead? There were stories about Fleshcrafters, and their control over bodies even when they’d passed.

“You do that,” Juala said. “I’m going to make sure this shitlick is dead.”

Vex turned over Reyna, bringing her power to bear. Reyna’s eyes were wide open, her gaze unfocused and staring ahead. Vex sent her Will in, trying to revitalize. Flesh sealed together, blood drawing back into the body. Her blue bar depleted, leaving maybe a fifth left. 

It felt odd, the way Reyna’s body felt. Cold. Empty. She couldn’t be too late.

Behind her, Vex could hear Juala kicking Il-Su. And to her side, another noise. A panicked squeak.

Vex looked over to see Leilynn, still hiding behind a chair, forgotten during the melee. Her lips mouthed a quiet warning. One it took a second for Vex to understand what she was saying.

“He’s still alive,” those lips said.

“Gotcha, limpdick,” Il-Su said in a choked gasp.

Vex turned just in time to see Juala, crouched over Il-Su, having just turned him over, getting stabbed in the chest with a knife. 

It wasn’t a particularly large blade. Something made for throwing, kind of like a kunai. It was maybe an inch long. But given where he stabbed it, it didn’t need to be big. 

He whipped the knife out in a practiced motion. Juala stumbled back, and her face turned furious.

“Little fuckstain,” she growled. “You…”

She stumbled and fell. Il-Su rose unsteadily to hit feet. His clothes smoked, the armor charred around the small hole in his leather breastplate. 

Vex rushed towards them, and Il-Su all but fell away from her, sending himself in a staggered run towards the window. Vex hesitated from going after him to Juala, and picked being a medic over an avenger. 

He fell out the window, likely to land on soft earth a story below. Not far enough to injure him, but far enough for it to hurt him. She hoped he landed on his head, but knew there was no chance of it.

Vex slid on the floor in her haste to get to Juala’s side, immediately slapping her hands over the wound. Closing it was a simple thing. Even mending Juala’s heart wasn’t particularly difficult. It removed most of what remained of Vex’s Will. 

“I am going to remove that prick’s spine and beat Kir with it,” Juala growled. “I am going to…”

She gasped in pain, and then gripped her chest, her eyes widening.

“What’s wrong?” Vex asked. She’d fixed her. She was sure it’d worked.

“She’s dying,” Leilynn said in that detached, dreamy voice of hers. She stood over them both. “Juala dies here today. Only three survive Il-Su’s attack today. Four, if you count the servant he stabbed in the hallway.”

Juala’s eyes bulged. Her face was turning red. She shot Leilynn a furious look. “You… said… Kir assassinates Sureya.”

“I lied.”

Juala slammed a fist onto the floor, and winced. “Why?”

“What did you say, when we told Rua that Aunt Sureya would be murdered?”

A pause, before Juala spat. “That she should have peace in her final days. Not spend them worrying, since we couldn’t change it.”

“I don’t understand,” Vex said. “I… I healed her. Why is she dying?”

“It’s the disease,” Leilynn said, her face sympathetic. “The Faceless Oppressor, the one the Criobani brought with them during the occupation. Il-Su’s knife was coated with tainted blood, kept preserved for years. It kills pelanoa, like Juala. Anyone else would just get the sniffles. But for them, it’s a death sentence.”

Juala choked out a laugh, before it turned into a sudden coughing fit. “Always knew my cock would get me killed.”

“Maybe I can cure it,” Vex said.

Leilynn squatted beside them both, and took Vex’s hand. “You can’t cure it. Even if you invite the Other in again. She has no knowledge of such things, and you are too inexperienced. I’m sorry, to both of you.”

“Oh, suck a dick,” Juala said. “Preferably mine. Could use a good blow before I go. Heh.”

She coughed again, a wracking, wheezing thing. Blood spat from her lips as she did.

“Fuck, that works fast. Don’t remember the Faceless Oppressor ever killing someone quite this quick.”

“It’s a concentrated version of it, modified by Pact magic of some kind,” Leilynn said. “Stabbed right into your heart. Il-Su wanted to make sure the job was done.”

“Well, fuck him, I guess. Can’t believe that little cuntgobbler got me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s a very famous assassin where he comes from,” Vex said. “Thousands know his name and exploits.”

Juala spat to the side. “I got killed by an assassin so shit that people know his name? Oh fuck that. Someone help me stand up, I gotta go kill that tiny-dicked asspounder.” 

“I’m sorry, sister,” Leilynn said, her eyes grave. “Juala Moseina’s time is done. Your desire for vengeance will be inherited by another.”

“Can’t trust anyone to do shit right, not gonna leave it up to your stupid dreams to figure it out.” Juala coughed, and attempted to stand. She managed to get her legs underneath her for a moment before they wobbled, and she fell down. Vex did her best to catch her. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” Leilynn said. “No normal pelanoa can survive the disease. And with how it’s been altered…”

Juala beat a fist into the floor. She made a frustrated cry, which turned into a sob. Cold, harsh, and often cruel Juala screwed up her face and tried to wipe away the tears. She was an ugly crier.

“I don’t want to die here,” Juala said.

“I know,” Leilynn said.

“I have to try,” Vex said.

“I know that, too.”

Vex gripped onto Juala’s shoulder, and sent her Will questing inside her. She found the ugliness and rot quickly enough. It was centered in Juala’s brain, but also throughout key areas in her body. Her lungs, her throat, her pelvic region. Others. All taking hold of what Vex suspected were hormone glands. 

Her memories of Otter’s days in Health and Biology classes were mostly a pot-induced haze, but there was enough to give her a general idea, even if the biology looked different. 

The disease had nothing at all to do with Juala’s genitalia, and everything to do with her internal workings as a result of her sex.

They were all under siege, and they were all failing. All simultaneously. 

She had no idea of where to even begin, short of just tearing out all of Juala’s hormonal glands and hoping she could live without them. 

Vex pulled her consciousness back as the reality sank in.

“I’d trade places with you if I could,” Vex said.

Juala snorted. “Oh fuck off with that, ain’t no one who would. I know what I am. I wanted to be different. But just… didn’t know how. And now I guess I’ll never figure it out. Fuck me, Lei, you should’ve told me.”

Leilynn’s face was resolute, no hint of sorrow or grief. But she did grip onto Juala’s shoulder tightly.

“Just tell me someone buggers that shit with my spear,” Juala said. “I really hope his last moments involve getting poled right up the ass with it.”

Leilynn smiled. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised on that front.”

“Oh, thank the fucking Dreamers. That should make me…” She coughed again. And then didn’t stop. She huddled into a ball as her body was ravaged. 

Vex held her.

“Rest easy,” Leilynn said in a hushed voice. “I wish I had better choices. I wish I had any choices. Just sleep, sleep and remember your happiest memories. Remember the masquerade ball?”

It was a simple memory. One that Rua was fond of as well. The Mikovians, awkward and out of place in a society they barely understood, hadn’t known how to integrate themselves into their new home. Kir had mentioned stories to her new sisters of parties where the participants all wore masks. The idea was to remain hidden from the other participants. Any who kept their identities secret for the entire night would be rewarded with a small boon from the host.

Both Rua and Juala had insisted Kir throw the masquerade, to show them what it was like, while they conspired with one another to get the one thing they both desired most: a single kiss from Kirhaela. 

They’d all been in their teen years, and all competitive. But in this, Rua and Juala had been of one mind. They planned perfectly in tandem, learning to mimic one another’s mannerisms so they would fool any would-be guessers into thinking they were the other.

The masquerade was a success. Even Aunt Sureya, in her staunch refusal to let ‘foreign culture’ infect the Islands, relented under the pleading of both Rua and Juala. Everyone of importance in both the Silayan and Mikovian camps showed up for the celebration, which was held in Rua’s home. 

The plan was successful for most of the night, but not the entirety of it. The first time Kirhaela had spotted them both, she correctly identified which was which. 

Rua and Juala had both been frustrated. Their plan had been perfect. Their acts meticulously rehearsed.

“How did you know?” they’d both asked.

And with a sly smile, Kirhaela had said, “Because only one person in the entire Islands has an ass that bony.”

Oh, how all three of them had laughed about it. They stole a jug of vareesu from the stores, as well as a frula cake, and then shared it between them. And then, tipsy and fatted on their stolen goods, Kirhaela had planted a single kiss on the cheek for both Rua and Juala.

“I wish I could do a masquerade again,” Juala said, her voice weak, barely a rasp.

Her eyes closed. Not long after, Juala Moseina died. 

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