Fell Champions

“Is this really what you want?” the Dreamer asked, sounding amused.

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. It was all an endless dark expanse to Otter’s eyes. But this place wasn’t really anywhere, just something she’d envisioned while meditating. It was all in her imagination, and in a way, it was probably the best way to do what she was trying. 

“It is,” Otter said. 

Her voice was harsh, barely a whisper. She was parched, dehydrated. Some part of her mind was aware someone had been feeding her, but she’d been elsewhere, her mind occupied with singular focus.

“I’m not a… what do you call it? A vending machine. You cannot produce stories and expect perfect results, or to even get what you want. Or even anything at all.”

That had been a worry of Otter’s. That this idea of hers would become corrupted somehow, a parody of what she wanted. The idea of it not yielding any results at all hadn’t occurred to her. But this was the only plan she’d been able to come up with after hearing of what awaited her on Pruana Isle.

“I offer you chaos,” Otter said. “Chaos creates change, which is what stories are all about. And I think that’s why you picked me.”

“Picked you?” that haunting voice in the darkness said. Otter could almost feel the inky hint of the Dreamer touching her mind. “Someone has an inflated opinion of themselves.”

“You looked for a loophole to give me a Pact. You taught me how to resist Willcasting, something I needed to know before fighting Ashborne. And I’m pretty sure you coerced or tricked Ashborne into coming after us in the first place.”

“And why would I do that?”

“To force growth. To make sure I left Rua’s cabin. To get me moving faster. Pick one.”

“Well, aren’t you special? Perhaps it’s not you I have my eye on, though.” The Dreamer tittered, an unsettling sound. “But I do enjoy chaos. I don’t control what stories come to life. It’s just a byproduct of our… imagination. But you did a good enough job inspiring it. Your stories were entertaining. Now wake up. Just as before, more time has passed than you expect.” 

There was a distinct sensation of something pressing against her mind, something oily and wrong, and Otter’s mind flinched away, retreating. Her eyes snapped open, and the harsh light of day assaulted her. Worse, Liaru stood over Otter, hands on hips, and a heavy scowl on her face.

“You know,” the Master Servant said, “when I agreed to let you and your Criobani urchin continue to stay in the Seat’s home despite her not being here, it was in the understanding you as her pelanoa would continue to look after her interests, and help affect her rescue from Seat Maravok.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m working on it.”

“You’ve been sitting for three days. I thought I’d seen the height of laziness before, but I bow to your proficiency.”

“Three days, eh? Is that why my legs feel like dead weight?”

Maybe sitting in lotus position hadn’t been a good idea. Her entire lower body felt like it was just made of wood. Prickly wood. Prickly wood that was very numb, and possibly on fire.

She struggled to stand, and immediately fell over. Liaru glared at her the entire time. 

“Little help?” Otter asked, holding out a hand.

More glaring, this time accompanied by a small sneer. It looked cute on her for some reason. Like a cherub that was getting uppity, and thinking about punching someone in the face with their tiny fists. 

Liaru took her hand and helped Otter to her feet. Otter stumbled into Liaru, nearly knocking them both over, and belatedly realized she’d inadvertently fallen into a trope, by falling one hand first into Liaru’s breasts. 

“Whoops, my bad,” Otter said, quickly backing away. “Didn’t mean to do that. I normally buy a girl a drink first, you know?”

Liaru’s face was neutral, a carefully controlled expression of nothing. “See that it doesn’t happen again.”

“Right, yeah, forgot you were married. What’s the deal with that anyway?”

One perfectly manicured eyebrow raised at her. “The ‘deal?’”

“Yeah, you know. Your wife, Kaya. She’s… you know.”

“Blind, yes. A terrible misfortune of birth.”

“Listen, I don’t care that she’s Criobani. I wasn’t born on the Islands. I don’t share the same prejudices everyone else around here does. If anything, I think it’s kind of silly to hate a whole people because of a historical event. Granted, I don’t know dick about what you went through, but still. Ridiculous.”

“That ‘historical event’ was only ten years ago. For most, the wounds are still very fresh.”

“But not for you? You don’t hurt as bad as everyone else? Or are you just a good person who’s willing to forgive?”

Liaru wavered for a second. But only for a second. Her mask slipped, before going right back to open disdain. “I can’t think of a reason I’d need to forgive my blind wife.”

“Right. Back to the polite fiction. I’ll unlock your tragic backstory yet. Just need to get me more relationship points. What kind of gifts do you like?”

Liaru looked confused, but shook it off quickly enough. “Alternatively, you could just mind your own business.”

“Yeah, I normally respect boundaries. But I’m beginning to discover how much I enjoy annoying you.”

“I assure you, I don’t think of the drivel you speak enough to warrant being annoyed by it.”

“Oh, c’mon, I don’t even need Rua here to know that’s a lie. I know exactly how annoying I can be.” To demonstrate, Otter reached out a solitary finger and touched it to Liaru’s nose before she could react. “Boop.”

Liaru folded her arms and made a frustrated noise. She looked about to say something, but then thought better of it, spun on her heel, and left the room. 

Otter tended to have that effect on people.

After stretching out and making sure she hadn’t permanently crippled herself for life by sitting in place for so long, Otter took a long bath, then followed that up by checking her messages. As usual, she seemed popular. 

The first she opened was from Rua. It was only four seconds long. Rua looked to be alone, the background behind her indicating she was outdoors at night. Her face was neutral, as if she were trying to figure out what to say. Then there was a sound behind her, which caused Rua to panic and immediately close the call. 

Nothing useful was to be found in it. But Otter rewatched it seven times, just to see Rua’s face. 

She tried calling Rua, but received no response. So, that hadn’t changed. She’d just have to wait, and hope that eventually Rua would be alone. 

There were a few messages from both Sami and Everett. Ev’s was short and to the point. He was glad she was alive, but didn’t want to get involved in the conflict between her and Il-Su. Unsurprising, and Otter didn’t think she had it in her to do something cruel enough to try to get him to pick sides.

Sami offered progress reports, one a day telling how close they were. From the sound of it, their Waverider, the vehicle Holt had gifted, was pretty quick, and they expected to make landfall at Ri Oa within a day. 

There was something weird about the last message. Otter knew enough of Sami to know when she was hiding something, or at least being evasive about something. Well, whatever that was would have to be tomorrow’s problem. 

She sought out Liaru again, less out of a desire to annoy her further – although that was definitely a secondary priority – and more to figure out what she’d meant earlier about performing duties in place of Rua. 

Unfortunately, Rua’s massive housing complex completely foiled that plan. Rua’s house had more buildings in it than most mansions had rooms, and while there was the odd servant – and not nearly as many as you’d expect for an area so large – none of them seemed to know where Liaru was located. 

Thankfully, Otter did run into Reyna, so at least there was something resembling a familiar face, even if it was one she was barely acquainted with. Still, she reasoned, once you fought alongside someone in a life-or-death-battle against an annoying edge lord, it made you friends for life, whether the other party liked it or not. 

“Oh, hey, you’re still here,” Otter said. “What’s up, my new best buddy?”

Reyna jumped, as if Otter had caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to, and then gave her an exasperated look. 

“I’m looking for Vex. Have you seen her?”

“Nope, I am currently daughterless, servantless, and maidenless right now. It’s been a pretty rough go of it.”

Reyna gave her that confused look she was so used to seeing from other people whenever noises came out of her word hole. “Well, when you see her, tell her I need to talk to her.”

“Sure. What about?”

“She’ll know. She better not be avoiding me.”

“Why would she be avoiding you?”

Reyna made a frustrated sound. “Just bring her to the funeral.”

“Funeral? What funeral? And why would I be going to it? I don’t know anyone here.”

“It’s for…” Reyna stuttered, swore under her breath, and then said, “It’s for Juala. You’ll be expected to be there, since you’re Rua’s pelanoa and she’s… indisposed.” 

“I need to show up for political bullshit? I didn’t like Juala, Rua sure as shit didn’t like her, and now I have to get roped into it?”

Reyna’s expression went flinty. “Yes. If anything, Kir might be there, or send a representative. Or maybe that Il-Su fucker will, who knows. There’s more than a few reasons for you to go. But the most important one is so you don’t embarrass Rua in front of everyone in the Islands.”

“Like anyone cares what Rua does or doesn’t do. You people all treat her like garbage because of her father.”

“And her mother,” Reyna said pointedly. “But the name of Hyleah still holds some weight. It was once respected. The Islands won’t ever forgive her father, and probably won’t forgive Rua by association, but they might forgive her kids. Speaking of, how come you haven’t put any in her yet?”

Otter rolled her eyes. “We’ve only known each other for a few weeks.”

“So?”

“And she doesn’t want kids.” 

“She can’t ever do her duty, can she?” Reyna muttered. “Just show up to the funeral. You’ll probably get an invite by tonight. It’s custom, and Sureya loves following tradition. And remember to bring the little Crib with you.”

Otter found it amusing that any Silayan could call anyone ‘little’ with a straight face. Reyna wasn’t as short as other Silayans, but she was probably the exact same height as Vex was. 

Well, just another dumb thing to put on the list. She was going to need a pen and paper at this rate. So many responsibilities, people to talk to, old friends to kill… It was getting hard to keep track of. She needed a secretary. A sexy secretary. 

Oh right. She was supposed to be looking for Liaru. Well, first things first, she guessed, and set off again to do just that.

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