Fell Champions

Otter sat on Kir’s plate-covered chest for a good seven seconds before the cold of it sank through her clothes and into her skin, at which point she stood up and pretended like it’d been her idea all along. Like she was showing mercy or something, and had nothing to do with the fact that Kir’s magic bullshit armor was apparently as cold and frigid as Kir’s vagina was reputed to be. 

Kir made no noise or movement, so just to be sure, Otter kicked her. Not hard or anything. Just a little kick. The kind that got a small groan out of her, allowing Otter to know she was still alive.

“Say it, Kir. Say I win.”

Kir slowly raised a hand to her visor and lifted it, and stared balefully at Otter, then said through clenched teeth, “You win.”

Otter had a very witty reply ready to go and was about to fire it off, when suddenly it felt like she’d been punched with the best orgasm she’d ever felt right in the solar plexus. Not a really good one. The absolute best possible one. Like every single wet dream she’d ever had got together and had sex with every single real life sexual encounter she’d ever have while getting finger banged by every errant fantasy she’d ever entertained all while her high school crush watched and masturbated.

It felt positively sinful. It was amazing. It was the Mount Everest of orgasms, and if not for the fact that it was over as soon as it began, before her pelanoa cock could even emerge from inside of her, she was terrified she’d need a change of pants.

“Crap in a hat, does it feel that way every time?” Otter gasped.

“Yes,” Kir said with a hiss. She looked aside, her gaze on the wall. “So, go on. Do it.”

“Do what?”

“Do… you know. Give the command.” Kir’s cheeks began to blush, but her teeth were clenched hard.

“What command? I’m genuinely confused.”

“We both know you want to fuck me. Well, now you have me at your command. Just get it over with already.”

“What? Oh, ew. No. Pass. Hard pass.” Otter shuddered at the thought. She couldn’t think of a less sexy thing for Kir to say. It almost overrode the hotness that was Kir. Almost. She leaned down, offering Kir a hand up. “Consent isn’t just sexy, it’s fucking mandatory. We’re not doing anything sexual so long as I have control over you.”

Kir blinked, and then looked at Otter’s proffered hand warily. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly. As a matter of fact, as my first official order to you, if I ever give you an order, even as a joke, to engage in any kind of sexual activity with me or anyone else, you are to disregard it and immediately punch me as hard as you can in the gut. This order overrides any future orders, and cannot be overridden.” 

Kir shivered, and then took Otter’s hand, standing up. “You’re not what I expected. You’re a lot smarter.”

“Is it the pink hair, or the fact I can never shut up?”

“And that when you do talk, nothing intelligent or sane ever seems to leave your lips.”

Otter’s mouth moved before her brain could object. “I’ll show you something leaving my lips–”

It was all she could get out before Kir’s fist slammed fully into her stomach. Otter gagged, struggling to breathe, choking for all she was worth. If not for invested soul power, she was pretty sure that hit would’ve ruptured something inside of her. 

“Sorry!” Kir said, holding Otter. “Are you okay?”

Otter coughed a few more times, and then spat something out that was definitely a little red, and then smiled weakly. “I deserved that, didn’t I?”

“You literally just gave me the order, and you already broke it. So… yes.”

Otter rubbed at her belly. She definitely didn’t care for the fact that being stuck in a video game that was actually a real world meant real world levels of pain. 

“The fuck is that armor of yours made of anyway? Because, ow.”

“Oh, it’s Wild Rime that’s been refined by a Steelsinger. Think of it as ice that’s also steel. And kind of magic.” 

Otter was about to ask more, but the door to the tower smashed open, and Sami emerged, sword drawn. She looked between the two of them, and then said, “So, who won?”

“Who do you think?” Otter said.

“No shit?” Juala said, coming in behind Sami. “Little upsetting. Always wanted to be the one to make the ice princess kneel.”

“Kir, this isn’t an order, but wanna smack your sister upside the head?”

“Do I?” Kir said brightly, and then did just that. Juala rubbed at the back of her head and scowled.

“Great. So, now that I have officially won and have Kir under my control, I have to say, this fucking sucks and feels really gross and I do not like it.”

“Well, there isn’t a lot we can do about it. Unless you want to have a rematch, and then if I win, I take control of you?”

“Oh, no, fuck that. I mean, this whole mind control thing is just terrible all around. This is literally the worst Pact, and I’m on the good side of it right now. No, fuck this, we’re getting you a new Pact.”

There was a beat of silence, and then all three of them erupted into questions and confused noises. Otter held up her hand, interrupting them.

“It’s called a ‘Pact’, dummies. The word ‘pact’ implies agreement. Has no one ever thought to ring up their fucking Dreamer and demand a refund, or renegotiate on the deal they got?”

“No,” Kir said. “That’s ridiculous. Why would… I mean… Juala? You’re the expert.”

But Juala was scratching at her chin, looking thoughtful. “Huh. You know, I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before.”

“Wait,” Otter said. “Why are you the expert? Out of the four of us, you’re the one without a Pact.”

“Yeah, and I researched literally everything I could to see if I was doing something wrong. Or if there were any cases where someone tried to get a Pact at one point, and then get one later on - and to answer that question, yes, that’s happened dozens of times - and what kinds of Pacts there were. I used to read up on them and go to bed dreaming about the type of Pact I’d get when the Dreamer finally realized she was being an idiot ignoring my requests.”

“Oh, you’re a fangirl, got it.”

“I’m not a… whatever that is. My dad used to tell me stories about Pactwielders. I enjoyed it a lot. He…” She paused, and got a distant look on her face, her expression going blank. She shook her head. “I just know a lot about them.”

“I didn’t know your father was male,” Kir said. “I just assumed they’d be pelanoa, like most Silayans.”

“I don’t remember,” Juala said woodenly. “But what is there to remember?”

Otter opened her mouth to say something, but Sami shook her head no firmly. Right. Juala had a thing about her mom. And her adopted ‘aunt’ Sureya. Probably had daddy issues as well to complete the set. 

Instead, Otter said, “So, we need a piece of land that’s considered Mikovian, right? To do the ritual to talk to your Dreamer?”

“That part is easy enough. There’s a small island, just a little bit to the northwest. It’s tiny. Twenty square meters at high tide. We covered it in rocks from Mikovia, and then used an Earthtiller to root them there so they never get washed away. The Sunset Council declared it Mikovian land, just so we have a spot here to be able to have people do Pact rituals. I was the first to use it.”

“Great. We still have all the info on how to do the Pacts, right?”

“Yes,” Sami said. “And even if we didn’t, Holt sent an info packet to every player with a how-to manual. Which you’d know, if you ever checked your messages.”

Right. Messages. Otter knew she was forgetting something. Wait.

She facepalmed, and then pulled up her menu. And sure enough, there was a message waiting for her from Rua. 

“One moment,” Otter said, holding up a finger, and then pressed the play button on the pre-recorded message.

Rua looked gorgeous, but then, she always looked gorgeous. And even though it’d barely been any time at all since Otter had seen her last, knowing that Rua had somehow damsel-in-distressed herself yet again made her miss her already. 

“Is this thing working?” Rua said. She looked more annoyed than troubled. “If you’re listening to this, then it means it’s probably three or four days after the fact, knowing you. I’m going to send a message to Sami, too, just so maybe I don’t need to wait a week for you to notice I’m gone.”

“Hey!” Otter said, even though Rua couldn’t hear her.

“My very stupid sister ordered me to Pruana Isle, and then couldn’t be bothered to come with me herself. So, now I’m a hostage again, and now I don’t even have the satisfaction of seducing Kir. And I was making good progress, too. Instead, Old Grey has me locked in her rooms. I’m considering just torching them, since he didn’t give me any orders against arson.

“Look after Kir for me. She’s an idiot. I worry about what she’ll do after sending me away. I… oh, fuck it. I love you, Otter. Don’t do anything stupid.”

The message ended there. Otter replayed it, and felt something building in her, a fire roaring to life. She nearly sent a response, but held off. What would she even tell Rua? That Kir had apparently tried to kill herself? That Juala was still alive? That she’d fought a duel against Kir and won? 

She could wait on all of that. So, she recorded her own short message, just two quick lines, and then sent it. 

“Love you, too. I’m coming for you.”

Otter turned to face the others, and then said, “Okay. Let’s go to that island and see about renegotiating Kir’s Pact. And then… then fuck it, we go declare war on the Mikovians, I guess.”

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