Fell Champions

Otter stared in stunned silence. Il-Su made a choking noise, but the sound wasn’t coming from his mouth, but from the new opening in his throat. He gurgled, and grabbed at the axe buried in him, trying to remove it as if that would in any way help.

Reyna gave him a cruel smile, delighting in his last moments. She walked a half-circle around him until she was facing him, and then lowered herself down into a squat so she was on his level.

“You feel that?” she said. “That’s your body fighting to stay alive. That’s your accumulated soul power trying to keep you going. But you haven’t collected enough. There’s some people out there, like Old Grey, who could survive this. But you’re not one of them. And you never will be.”

Il-Su reached at her with a hand. She grabbed it by the wrist and directed it to her throat. He curled his fingers around it, but wasn’t able to muster the strength to tighten.

“Go on,” she said. “Try. Try to kill me, again. Because you keep fucking that up. I beat you, shiteater.”

Il-Su spat at her, and a wad of blood hit her face. She wiped at it, and then, staring him in the eyes, licked her hand clean.

“Best fucking meal I’ve had in ages.”

Il-Su’s eyes were unfocused, the light going out from them, but even so, he cast about his gaze, looking for help, anything. And they fell on Otter. 

She wished she could feel for him. She really did. They’d had a lot of good times. But that was before Fell Champions. The game had revealed so much about him, so much that was barely hidden under the surface of good memories. 

She turned her back on him. And saw Everett standing behind her. Even with a dragon’s face, she could tell he was horrified, saddened. His eyes were only for Il-Su, and he made a noise, low and rumbling in his throat, of unmistakable pain. 

He took a step forward. Probably to help. Maybe to ease Il-Su’s last moments. Otter wanted to let him have it. But Il-Su’s treachery knew no bounds, and she wasn’t certain she could trust putting anyone within weapon’s range of him, especially not someone who wasn’t thinking clearly, someone who still trusted him. 

Otter put a hand on Everett’s chest. She’d probably never be able to best him in a contest of strength, so she didn’t put any force behind the gesture. She couldn’t ward him away, not with physical power.

“Don’t,” she said. “He might hurt you.”

“I don’t care,” Everett grumbled. “He’s suffering. If… if she isn’t going to finish it, I will.”

She wasn’t sure how much she trusted those words. But it was a simple enough fix. 

“Reyna,” Otter said. “End it. Cleanly. And… don’t harness his soul crystal.”

“What? Why not?”

“Collect it, but don’t use it. You’ll need it. For what we talked about.”

“Right,” Reyna said, and though Otter couldn’t see her with her back facing her, she could hear the hunger in her voice, that desire to learn Element Weaving. “I’ll make it about as painless as I can manage.”

“Don’t look,” Otter said to Everett.

He looked about to argue, but then Sami was there, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. There were no words from her. There didn’t need to be. He cast his eyes downwards. There was the sound of a wet crunch. Otter didn’t know how Reyna chose to finish Il-Su off, but it didn’t sound painless. 

Everett’s shoulders hunched, and he let out a quiet noise of pain. But when he was done, he stood straighter, head snapping up, and looked to where Il-Su lay. 

“He’ll be back,” Everett said, though he didn’t sound hopeful.

“He will,” Otter agreed.

“Will we have to do this again?”

“That depends on him,” Sami noted.

“He never did take defeat lightly.”

“No. He won’t come at us head on next time either. I don’t know what he was thinking with this stunt. It’s so unlike him.”

“Unless someone put him up to it,” Otter offered, though she wasn’t sure who would.

But Sami seemed to have an idea. She got that look in her eyes, that one where she was busy solving a particularly hard logic puzzle. Her fingers drummed along her sword’s hilt, and Otter could all but feel her Fate Sense trying to match the rhythm of her beat.

“Something you want to share?” Otter asked.

“Not yet,” Sami said. “I’m still working on it. But I expect…”

Sureya stepped forward, separating herself from the crowd, and spoke in a loud, clear voice, meant to be heard by all, “This assassin murdered a member of the Sunset Council, the Burden of Vigilance. In accordance with tradition, he should have been allowed the soul crystal of the one he slew. But this was denied to him. As we all saw, today, he was murdered.”

The crowd erupted in a confused rumbling of noise. Whatever they’d been expecting, this wasn’t it. 

“Tradition demands justice,” Sureya continued. “If custom is to be upheld, then it applies to all, even the worst of us.”

Sureya very deliberately turned to face Reyna, who was hunched over Il-Su like a bloodsoaked goblin, digging through his chest cavity for her prize. She seemed to notice a moment too late Sureya’s attention on her.

Otter didn’t like where this was going. “Oh fuck this.”

She didn’t even put any thought into her next action, but she summoned a Thread of the Scourge in her hand, calling it into being. Sami made a noise of protest, but Otter didn’t care. If Sami wanted to put her in charge, then this was going to be the result. 

She lashed the golden wire as it came into being directly at Sureya. The woman didn’t even turn to face the attack. She made a sweeping motion with one hand, and a black blade appeared in her grasp, the exact same black blade that Il-Su had used, and hacked the Thread in twain. The severed portion flickered and died, vanishing before it touched the ground. 

Sureya turned her head to face Otter, her eyes furious.

“I call for a motion to vote,” Kir said, stepping forward.

“The Burden of Culture recognizes her fellow Seat, the Burden of Dreams,” Sureya said, her attention shifting. “What motion do you bring forth?”

Kir licked her lips nervously. Even clearly panicked, that gesture looked entirely too sensual. Otter tried not to notice, despite parts of her clearly liking it too much.

“The tradition is outdated,” Kir said. “And comes from the enemy. Why do we continue to follow a custom meant to propel the Criobani war machine?”

“Tradition is important,” Sureya said evenly. “And provides guidance to all.”

“But it’s not law. Tradition must change with the times. It can’t be allowed to rule.”

Sureya looked thoughtful, and the black blade vanished from her hand. “I disagree.”

“Your stupid tradition would have rewarded Il-Su,” Otter said. “And, what, you’d kill one of your own for not allowing him his pound of flesh? Seems dumb.”

People in the crowd seemed to agree with her. Huh. This tactic of Kir’s seemed to be working. Maybe Otter should’ve tried diplomacy first before violence. It seemed super effective.

“I second Kir’s motion,” Reyna said.

“You are not a Seat,” Sureya said scornfully. “You would be wise to remain silent while those who are not being judged come to a verdict regarding your ill-thought actions.”

Reyna sneered, gesturing wildly with her hand, still soaked with blood from prying out Il-Su’s soul crystal. “I won’t be judged for killing this little prick. He disobeyed the rules of the duel at every turn, and Juala did more for the fucking Islands than any ten people here. And I’m tired of pretending she didn’t because she was a cunt.”

“Juala–”

“Is dead. And I’m going to fucking celebrate her life, like should be happening, but everyone here who was too fucking cowardly to say shit to her face while she was alive are now gleefully spitting on her corpse now that she’s dead. Fuck you all, I’m getting drunk. Tale-telling cowards.”

Reyna bulldozed her way through the crowd, but she didn’t need to shove anyone on her way out. People stepped out of her way, most of them with downcast eyes.

“This isn’t much of a vote,” Sureya said, pretending as if she hadn’t noticed Reyna’s exit. “Rua can only stand in a tie-breaker capacity, and she is compromised by you. Juala is dead, and her sister is not yet sworn in. And Leilynn, as usual, is nowhere in sight.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kir said, her voice steel. “I vote to repeal the tradition of allowing a killer to retain the soul crystal of those they murdered. If a kill is unjust, let them receive no reward. Let their actions be judged. If they come to claim their prize, let them be put to the sword should they be a murderer. No compromises with the Criobani.”

“Is this really what you want?” Sureya asked, cocking her head.

“It is.”

“Very well. I agree. Not all tradition is sacred. Let this vile stain on the Islands be removed at last. I vote to repeal the Criobani tradition on soul crystal harvesting. The motion is passed.”

Uh, that didn’t seem right. 

Kir took a step backwards. “What? You agree?”

“My daughter was killed during the occupation. My wife, as well. But it was my daughter’s corpse that was pried from my hands as I grieved, my beautiful child ripped from my grasp by a Criobani soldier. Claimed he was entitled to her soul crystal. That was all my child was to him. Something to be harvested. Power, to be used to kill more of us. To kill someone else’s child, and do it all again. So yes. I agree. I offer no harm for Reyna. What she did was right, and just, and any Silayan should be proud to do the same. If an outsider kills one of us, we do not reward them. We kill them in kind.”

A cheer went up from the crowd, but Otter didn’t feel it. If anything, she felt as if they’d just lost a very important fight. One they hadn’t even realized they’d been in.

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