Fell Champions

 

When Rua awoke her in the morning, it was the worst she’d felt in years. Her lower back was agony, a tight black hole of pain for which no tension would ever escape. 

 

“That chair,” Otter groaned, “is evil.”

 

“I remember saying something about offering you a better place to sleep.” She didn’t even have the decency to hide her smug look. Otter had never seen an ‘I told you so’ face quite so… pleased with itself.

 

“Your fireplace is a liar, by the way.”

 

Rua gave her an odd look and crossed her arms. “Is this a tired thing? Is this sleep-deprived crazy talk?”

 

Otter pointed at it. “Those aren’t logs in there. And it’s been burning all night, but no one fed it.”

 

She’d tried to figure it out for a good ten minutes while trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The ‘logs’ were rocks shaped to look like them. The fire didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere. It was just there. And it didn’t give off enough heat to be a real fire. It was still warm, but not fire hot.

 

“Is your Canada so primitive you still use regular fires to heat your homes?”

 

“What? Oh come on, how am I in a fantasy game talking to a fantasy person and still getting jokes about Canada being a backwater. Want to make fun of hockey next? Make up a Minnesota accent and pretend like it’s ours? Something about maple syrup? Same five lousy jokes, every time, and people think they’re so clever.”

 

“You say a lot of strange things.”

 

“I’m a strange person.”

 

“I’ve noticed. Here, breakfast.”

 

‘Breakfast’ was apparently a dish-sized piece of flatbread with some kind of green paste spread on top of it. Rua called it ‘sarru’, and it tasted kind of like a peanut butter tortilla wrap, but a touch more bitter. When they were done eating, Rua motioned for Otter to follow her outside.

 

Together, they did some light gardening, followed by harvesting roots from a small, rocky outcropping not far from the cabin. They then checked a few traps Rua had set up around the area. None had caught anything, which was apparently the norm. 

 

Then, armed with wooden buckets, they did some fishing by hand. Rua managed to catch a handful of minnow-like fish and something that looked like crayfish in the swampy waters. 

 

The crayfish would be eaten later. The minnows would be used at a future date as bait for real fish at a deeper pond Rua knew of nearby.

 

Lastly, Rua had Otter scrape moss with a knife from a few trees, and then showed her one mushroom. She painstakingly explained everything about it, from stalk to cap, and made sure Otter paid attention the entire time. Each crude joke about the shape of the mushroom was met with a quick flick.

 

Once Rua was satisfied that Otter wouldn’t accidentally collect a bunch of poisonous mushrooms by mistake, she set her out, stressing not to stray too far, and to only pick the one kind, while she got to the busy work of preparing lunch and a ‘surprise.’ The entire time, Otter felt a little like she was being condescended to. 

 

It was like a parent explaining a very simple task to a particularly stupid child. Otter honestly didn’t know if she felt insulted, or if it was kind of hot. She made a note to call Rua ‘mommy’ at some point, just to see if it did anything for her.

 

After an hour of traipsing through the woods, Otter returned to the cabin, where Rua inspected the offerings. There was a lot of green gunk, but only a handful of mushrooms. Apparently both the moss and the mushrooms could be eaten, but were better to make into a salve in the event either of them got injured. Rua had some of it on hand, but it was nearing spoilage. 

 

She separated out the mushrooms, and then watered the moss down and ground it into a paste.

 

They had a light soup for lunch, and then after, they got to the real arduous task Rua had set out for the day. 

 

“Naked?” Otter said. “Really? I mean, I’m down, but if you wanted to get my pants off, there wasn’t any need for subterfuge.”

 

“If you want to make a Pact–”

 

“You’re going to show me how to do that?”

 

Rua sighed. “Yes, obviously.”

 

“Really? I didn’t think you’d be down.”

 

“There’s something in it for me.”

 

“Oh, do you get a referral bonus? Sign away ten souls and get a free sub?”

 

Apparently Rua was getting used to just ignoring her comments, because she just continued on, “If you want to make a Pact, you have to be one with nature.”

 

“I’m not getting it on with any trees, plants, shrubbery, or animals. The only things that go inside me are me, various toys, and–”

 

“Spare me,” Rua said, her cheeks flushing in a delightful way. “There will be none of … that. You just need to be naked, and touching the earth.”

 

“Only the earth? Because there’s something I’d like to have touching–”

 

“Are you always this, this… this lewd?”

 

“Nah. It’s mostly because I’m getting a reaction out of you, and I like to tease. You blush more than a virgin at an orgy.”

 

“I don’t know what that is.”

 

“An orgy? Well, it’s where–”

 

“No, the other word. What’s a ‘virgin?’”

 

“Someone who’s never had sex.”

 

“There’s a term for that where you’re from? Why?”

 

“Mostly a shame thing. Some men like to value a woman based on her sexual experience.”

 

“So they don’t like these… virgins?”

 

Otter laughed. “Oh, no. They prize them more than anything else.”

 

“What an odd thing. You’d think a competent lover would be more in demand. This Canada sounds more and more stupid the more I hear of it.”

 

“We have free health care and Tim Horton’s, so yeah, for every bit of good, there’s also some bad.”

 

Flick. “Lie.”

 

“What? No. There was no lie.”

 

Flick. “Lie.”

 

“When did I lie?”

 

“When you implied you didn’t like this Tim Horton person.”

 

“I… well, their coffee sucks, but you can thank Timbits for this big ass you like to stare at.” Otter noticed a small amount of pain in Rua’s eyes. “Sorry. Here, let me…”

 

She took Rua’s hand in hers, and began to gently knead at the flesh between her forefinger and thumb. Rua said nothing, and just let Otter work away the ache. 

 

When she was done, Rua said, “Strip.”

 

“Yes, mommy.”

 

Rua rolled her eyes, no hint of embarrassment, so Otter put her clothes on the stairs leading up to the cabin, and sat down in the mud as instructed. Some people liked mud baths and even paid good money for it, but Otter was quickly discovering it wasn’t her thing. Maybe it had something to do with the temperature. Wet, cold mud on her naked ass in what felt like autumn weather was not enjoyable. 

 

“Now what?”

 

“Sit in silence,” Rua said. “And don’t make any perverted comments. I know you can do it. All you have to do is keep your lips together.”

 

“I can put my lips together against–”

 

“Maybe if you’re good.”

 

Otter stopped, and realized that now she was the one blushing. Amusement danced on Rua’s face, which just made it even worse. There was no winning now, so she did as she was told. Rua pulled out the bucket that Otter had gathered her moss scrapings in, and began to smear the paste she’d made across Otter’s shoulders.

 

“Hey, I thought that was for medicine.”

 

“It is. But there’s enough for this purpose, too. Now quiet, or you can find someone else to guide you on the Flowing Way.”

 

Rua drew swirling lines up and down Otter’s arms, and then across her breasts and stomach. Otter squirmed the entire time, goosebumps forming wherever Rua painted. Otter had always thought if there was going to be any touching involved between the two of them, she was going to be the one to initiate. And for it not to feel quite so… clinical. She wanted to make a comment the entire time, but kept her lips closed as promised.

 

“I invoke the Silayan Dreamer, the Sleeper in the Depths, the Guiding Hand of the Mountain.” Rua drew in a deep breath and continued, her voice slower, her words more enunciated, “Listen to my voice. Imagine the waves of the ocean, as the tide comes in. The blue waters churn, and smash upon the rocks. The rocks stand victorious, not knowing that with time, they are weathered down, and will lose a war the waters never once took notice of.”

 

Otter could see it. A beach lined with smooth rock, seemingly eternal, if not for the texture of their surface betraying their inevitable defeat.

 

“Feel the winds of the ocean, bringing the cold winds of winter from the north, and herald the fires of war.”

 

There was salt in the air, and in the distance, fog parted. She could see ships erupt from the mist. They bore flags she did not recognize, and soldiers lined their decks. People stood at the beach to meet them, tan-skinned and blue-eyed. They wore plant fibres and dresses made from grass and animal skins. But they also wore steel at their hips, and were ready for what came. 

 

No. Not just people. Women. They were all, with no exception, women. There were no men on that beach. 

 

Drums began to sound, thrumming like a heart beat. 

 

“I invoke the Queen of the Tides, the Breaker of Ships, the Lord of War, and pray she remains in her rest. This one, Otter, seeks to make a Pact. I call on ancient tradition and by blood, as one borne to these isles.”

 

“Hey,” Otter said, shivering, “I’m not sure this is a good–”

 

And then Otter was falling.

 

There was no ground beneath her, and she opened her eyes just in time for her body to fall into a black ocean. She struggled for breath, to stay afloat, to stay alive. She flailed at the water, trying to swim, which she’d never been the best at. She managed a doggy paddle, barely keeping on the surface.

 

The sky above was nothingness. The depths below were an endless abyss. And Otter began to sink.