Fell Champions

Kir listened at the door, aware she really should be doing probably anything else. The sounds were soft, dampened by the one inch barrier of wood between her and the two women inside. Her cheeks felt hot, and she knew she was blushing a bright azure, but she couldn’t pull herself away.

Rua and Sami were inside. Probably touching one another. Kissing. Doing… other things. And Kir was happy for Rua. Rua had spent too much of her life being on the outside, of not being accepted. Her finding people who genuinely desired her and cared for her was a good thing.

So why did Kir feel so possessive and jealous?

She wanted to go in there, break them up. Take Rua home. 

It was an ugly, traitorous part of her heart, and she refused to listen to it. She’d already done enough to Rua. Taken enough from her. She wouldn’t take this small thing from her just because she was feeling… jealous.

For the hundredth time since that incident in that arena, Kir reminded herself she was Mikovian, and did not like women that way. 

There was a particularly loud wet pop sound - Kir wasn’t even sure what it could possibly be - followed by an equally loud, drawn out moan. Kir blushed particularly hard, and her hand fell away from the door knob. That sealed it. She definitely could not go in there. Knowing her luck, if she tried, she’d just get dragged into whatever… debauchery… was going on.

No, she turned away, and began walking down the hall. She wandered for a bit, not sure where she was going, until she ended up in the parlor nearest the entrance to Rua’s home.

Repairs had already been started since Il-Su’s attack, but they were clearly not finished. Rua didn’t have much in the way of readily available gold, despite the absurdity that was her house. Most of what she made went into supporting the house’s small staff and maintaining the mansion through mundane things. 

Kir entered the room, feeling trepidation. 

The room had been mostly fixed up. And someone had made an attempt to clean up the blood. But there was a darker patch on the floor. She intellectually knew the blood wasn’t from Juala. Juala had died from a poisoned knife, one tainted with the Faceless Oppressor. Any blood in significant quantities had probably come from Reyna, who’d nearly bled out during the fight, and Vex, the Criobani Fleshcrafter who’d reportedly taken a large number of wounds during the attack. 

She hadn’t ordered Il-Su to attack anyone. Had tried to keep him off the board entirely. Her father had given the order, without her knowledge. It wasn’t her fault Juala was dead.

Only… it was. 

Old Grey had only intervened because of Kir’s feud with Juala. He’d seen the two tearing into each other, not caring how much collateral damage they’d caused in the process, not caring the harm done to Mikovian/Silayan relations. How they’d both been a poor example to their respective peoples over… sibling rivalry. 

Juala would still be alive if Kir had been just a little bit more responsible. If she’d been just a little stronger and had risen above the childish provocations. 

She missed the absolute little bitch. Mostly because she wanted to punch Juala right in her stupid face, because this whole mess and her being dead was also her fault, but she also missed her because she just… did. 

Kir balled up her fists. She wanted to hit something. And for the hundredth time that day, her Dreamstone pulsed in her pocket, as if beckoning her to do just that. She pulled the rock, engraved with glyphs, from her pocket. The runes were glowing purple, blinking in a low rhythm. 

She tapped the stupid rock with her finger. It’d been malfunctioning for weeks now. It was supposed to detect Mythwalkers, but lately it was just randomly going off for no reason at all. It was making her job as the Burden of Dreams extremely difficult. She’d replace the stupid thing, but the Islands didn’t have many skilled artificers, and those that were around had been forbidden from working with her by Sureya. She’d requested a replacement from the homeland, but nothing had come yet. She was considered too low of a priority, considering the situation in Mikovia. 

Still, she’d be foolish if she didn’t at least investigate. She left the parlor, holding up the stone. A purple pulse meant a Mythwalker. Red meant someone engaging in active storytelling that was gaining the attention of a Dreamer. She usually had to patrol schoolgrounds with children to make sure they weren’t engaging in any kind of childish rebellion or fantasy. Kids were the biggest source of Mythwalkers, as they didn’t know any better, and Dreamers were drawn to their active imaginations. 

Such children were never punished. At least, not onerously. They didn’t know any better. All you had to do was tell them histories of great warriors, steer them back to safe stories. You didn’t normally need to take direct intervention unless it was with repeat offenders. 

She followed the pulses outside, where it led her to the gardens. The one called Everett, the large, black-scaled, winged reptilian man was tending the new trees around Rua’s mansion. He was on a ladder, talking to himself quietly as he worked, harvesting the yellow fruit the tree produced. Fruit that he’d been selling at Juala’s funeral. Apparently he’d managed to make a decent amount of coin.

“Hello!” he called down. “Would you like to help?”

“Help how?” Kir asked as she approached.

“I throw down bananas. You catch.”

She glanced at her Dreamstone. It was flashing purple, as if a Mythwalker were right next to her, but that wasn’t possible. Was it? Unless this Everett was a Mythwalker. How many reptilian people were there?

She put the rock away, and looked at him. According to Rua, this Everett was one of the players. But what if he wasn’t? What if he was a Mythwalker that Sami had summoned up? Standard protocol said stab first, investigate later. Mythwalkers were dangerous, and you couldn’t chance letting them get away and have their story grow. That’s how you got the Nightfather and his Darkriders.

But Kir had been making too many mistakes lately, acting without thinking. Juala dead. Rua enslaved. Il-Su on the run, doubtless plotting vengeance. 

She just had to assume the stone wasn’t working properly until proven otherwise. 

“What are these bananas?” she asked.

“Fruit,” he said in a friendly tone, but done so with a slight mocking edge.

He tossed a bushel of the yellow fruit down to her, and she caught it. There was a basket nearby filled with the things, so she deposited them there.

“I’ve never seen their like before. Where do they come from?”

“Holt. He made them, with his weird powers. They come from my world.”

He tossed another bushel at her, and she caught it, then inspected the fruit. She held the Dreamstone up to it. It was pulsing fairly hard. Was it reacting to this? Some impossibility from another world?

“They grow quickly,” Everett said. “Impossibly so. I’d picked this tree clean just yesterday, and now it’s full again.”

“Ashborne’s blessing,” Kir said absently.

Everett went still at that. “What does that mean?”

“Ashborne. A Mythwalker unique to the Islands. He gives a blessing to all plantlife here. Crops and fruits grow quickly in his presence. We believe Ashborne is one of the reasons why the Criobani wanted the Islands so badly.”

“But, he died, didn’t he?”

“He did,” Kir agreed slowly. “Or so Rua told me. But a Mythwalker that strong, likely a piece of him or his story continues to live on. Even with his soul crystal cut out, I doubt that’d be enough to truly kill him. You’d likely need runabashi steel to make sure of the job.”

Everett coughed suddenly, and then beat his chest with his fist. He gave her a weak smile. “And you do not have any of this runabashi steel handy, do you?”

She looked at him askance. Was he worried she’d try to stab him with some? Was there some merit to her hastily thought up theory that he was a Mythwalker?

“No,” she said slowly. “It’s very rare, and all the runabashi weapons Mikovia possesses are in the homeland. Are you afraid of something?”

“No, no, just… making conversation.”

She narrowed her eyes. This Everett was a very poor liar. But she wasn’t sure why he was lying. Still, she was pretty sure he wasn’t a Mythwalker now. Mythwalkers tended to be… off when they were intelligent. Not quite a person in their mannerisms, but a very good imitation of one. She’d been trained on how to spot one, and Everett's way of speaking and how he held himself was too authentic. If he were a Mythwalker, he’d have to be one of the really powerful ones in order to pass this well.

She helped him for a bit longer, as a way of silent apology, even if he never knew what she’d suspected about him, of what she’d need to do if she found out he’d been a Mythwalker. Duty was the great killer of friendly camaraderie. 

When she finished helping him harvest his bananas, he thanked her, a wide smile on his face. It made her feel even worse about herself, about what she might have done if circumstances had been different, if he’d actually been a Mythwalker. She thought again about Rua, of what she’d done to her sister by essentially enslaving her, and her heart sank even lower. And then thought of Juala. 

She wandered off, not sure where she was going. But she left the estate grounds, her feet seemingly taking her in random directions. She just needed to get away. If only for a little while.

She didn’t realize she was heading to Ri Oa’s Wayfaring station until she got there. The platform was busy, with a small line waiting to be transported to another island. Most people in the Silayan Islands preferred to sail, even if it took longer. The expense of Wayfaring made it prohibitive, but some could afford it.

Right now, it was Kir’s best way to make it back to Pruana Isle quickly. Make it back, without Rua. Leave her behind, so that Rua could finally be free. How many people had failed her in her life? Her parents, certainly. Sureya. Juala. Every single person who would’ve supported her if not for the fact she was a half-breed. Kir was just another in a long list of people who had taken advantage of her. 

At least Kir had Rua’s best interests at heart when she’d done it, but it was small conciliation. 

Kir stepped towards the Wayfaring station. And then someone walked up to her, a stripe of red hair on his head and a wide smile on his half-crazed face.

Siddic. 

This was the last thing she needed.

She straightened, standing to attention like a proper soldier, refusing to let him see any weakness. For some reason, that made him smile even wider.

If there was one person in her so-called Ice Watch she did not regret enslaving, it was Siddic. 

She opened her mouth to give him an order, something to make him go away, but his hand dipped into a pouch and he withdrew a letter. It was rumpled and bent, the wax seal barely holding together. Stamped in ink across its surface was her father’s seal, marking it as from his desk.

An order then. One her Pact would force her to obey, since it came from him.

Siddic said nothing as she took the envelope and opened it, withdrawing the piece of paper. She'd never really seen her father's handwriting before. He preferred to give orders in person, and wasn't a great reader or writer. The letters were blocky, carefully drawn things, Old Grey's focus on making the words not looking childish evident.

As she read, she could feel her Pact restricting her, forcing her body to comply. Tears began to brim in her eyes as she read. As she saw what her orders were.

Erathawk knows what you’re planning. Send Rua to Pruana Isle. Order her to Wayfare back and to behave herself. We need a hostage to work against this Otter. You’re forbidden from returning yourself until things calm down. Erathawk is of half a mind to have you put in chains for being involved with this Otter woman. Don’t do anything to draw his anger on you any further. That includes warning anyone from what you need to do. Do it now. No delays.

Erathawk. The King of Mikovia was finally making his move. And now Old Grey had decided it would be best if Kir wasn’t part of things. All while damning her even further by betraying Rua yet again.

Siddic plucked the letter from her hand and smiled even wider.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!