Characters: Queen Isabella, Countess Olivia, Kadaj, Fallon, Gena, Roxanne, Mundo, Isaac, Quentin, Aisha, Lucilla, Cara, Grandpa
Location: Royal Box Section, the Tournament of Champions
Day 4 - 1:39 PM
By Queen Isabella’s decree, the Tournament of Champions continued as scheduled. Unfortunately, the contestants were in such bad condition from the recent attack that Gena and Roxanne had no trouble overpowering them. Little by little, brutal fight after brutal fight, the wicked pair climbed their way to the top of the brackets and it wasn’t long before their names were placed in the slots of the semi-finals.
Meanwhile, high in the royal box section, Isabella watched the fights with a smirk—the kind of smirk that could only be compared to that of a deranged little kid who finds amusement in watching ants fry under a magnifying glass. To her left, Fallon had retaken her seat and Olivia leisurely fanned herself as the sun’s glistening fingertips crept through the window. A sort of humid stickiness clung to their skin like water, dampening the girls’ long dresses.
Free to move but not to leave, Aisha wriggled about in the chair next to Isabella. She had her hands tucked deep into her lap and scanned the faces of the audience three or four times in hopes of spotting Rachelle or Kendira, but she couldn’t see them anywhere. They must have switched seats.
But nobody had a better view of the tournament than Grandpa and the other ‘masterminds’ of the attack. They stood on the table, surrounded by fruits that were so great and succulent that they could have been picked from the Garden of Eden. Mundo and Isaac had themselves plopped down on half of a grapefruit (the other half was on Isabella’s plate) while Grandpa stood beside them. Eager to entertain his small boyish mind, Quentin had found sport in building a pyramid of grapes. Although most everybody at the table had put him on ignore, Olivia occasionally watched him with a playful smile.
Above the girls, a tiny cage hung down that was crammed with the spared lives of the naked Men. Every now and then, the Men managed to pitch their weight to one side and start the cage rocking, but nothing came out of it. They were ignored by everybody else and soon they realized that the fall would kill them, even if they could knock the cage off its hook, so they stopped.
“Please,” Aisha was saying. “Your Highness, I came here to see Master Luna. It’s very important that I speak with her.”
Isabella scoffed. “Certainly Master Luna has a better way to spend an afternoon than to listen to the prattling of an amateur Cleric like you. It already bores me to tears.”
“But this concerns her. And you.”
“But this concerns her,” Isabella mocked, flapping her jaw like paper. “And you. Wahh, wahh, wahh.”
That was all it took. Aisha shut up and stared forward again, biting her lower lip. Why did she care so much? None of them seemed to care. Isabella wouldn’t listen, Rachelle had her convictions sorted out, and the Apostles knew what they were doing. They had been doing it for hundreds of years. After all, how could Dai Celesta be wrong? She was a deity, a goddess. And the sacred books—there were so many—they all cast Men as the spreaders of the Plague. It was in Dai Celesta’s teachings. It was scrawled on every page in ancient text, the warnings that were not heeded, the lives that could have been saved, the prophecy of Sorena.
Their mistake was not believing until it was too late. They would not be so foolish again. Time cannot heal all things. And what was Aisha, but a servant to Dai Celesta? That was her sworn oath, her cleansing in the holy water, her heart’s promise and her hand’s prayer. But how could she serve somebody she doesn’t believe? Was Rachelle right? Was Dai Celesta right? Could they be wrong? Could history be wrong? What were beliefs but lies with no found truth?
She watched the Men on the table, trying to study what Women had cast away centuries ago. There had to be something more there. Some worth, some hope, some future—but she couldn’t see it. She could only feel it. In her heart, perhaps, or only in her fantasies. After all, what was faith? What was it worth? What did it all mean?
She closed her eyes. It would come to her. It had to. She would find the Light, even if they didn’t. Somebody had to see the truth. But for now, there was only Darkness to come.
Ironically, that was just about the time that Gena and Roxanne entered the room. Their armor was spotless, despite the battles they had been in, and their faces were barely doused in sweat.
“You were great out there,” Gena grinned, rubbing Roxanne’s head. “We made it to the semi-finals, baby.”
But Roxanne didn’t seem so happy. “Does that mean we have to fight each other now?”
“Not yet,” Fallon said. “During the semi-finals, we pit one of the two survivors against our former champion, Jinx, and the winner of that battle goes on to the finals. All you two have to decide is who wants to face Jinx.”
“And I had figured the little shrimp made a run for it when he saw us coming,” Gena sighed.
“I’ll take care of him,” Roxanne laughed. She reached into her armor, secretly taking out the vial with the leetle inside, and passed it over to Gena in a handshake. “I won’t be needing this. I’m feeling like a woman now. There’s no stopping me.”
Smiling, Gena nodded and tucked the vial into her robe. “You go teach that Man a thing or two. I’ll see you in the finals.”
“I’ll be waiting! But don’t hold back on me just because I’m a girl.”
“Good luck, Roxanne,” Isabella said. “I’ll be cheering you on from here.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Roxanne bowed and headed out the doorway, pushing past a glaring Lucilla and Cara, whose eyes fell to her feet at Roxanne’s return gaze.
Gena turned to the table. “I see you found some friends of mine.”
For the first time, Isabella took notice of the Men in front of her. “Yes, they do seem to know you, but they haven’t had very many nice things to say.”
“Did you tell them that it’s not polite to talk behind other people’s backs?”
“I would, but I don’t think manners are in their vocabulary. I understand Men aren’t very intelligent.”
“Hey!” Quentin yelled up from his grape pyramid. “I know a lot of men who are in television.”
Isabella cleared her throat. “Excuse me, I don’t think I asked you to speak. Why are words coming out of your mouth?”
“I can make spit come out instead.”
Still on the grapefruit, Mundo leaned over to Isaac. “Ten copper says that he’s the next to die.”
Isabella was not amused. With no expression to her face, she flicked the top grape off the pyramid, causing it to tumble down the side towards Quentin. He screamed, but made no attempt to move and it plowed right through him.
“Medic…” he moaned, gripping his throat with both hands as he staggered back and forth.
Aisha started to stand up.
“Don’t even think about it,” Isabella said. “Sit back down. It’ll be a wonderful fight, I’m sure.”
Aisha stared at Quentin, who was being overly dramatic about his fake grape death, and then at Isabella. “…What are you going to do with them?”
“Never you mind. Everybody will get what they deserve. I like to think of myself as a fair ruler in that way.”
“Yeah, right,” Olivia said as she continued to fan herself. “More like everybody will get what you want.”
“Did I ask for your opinion, cousin? If I wanted something worthless, I’d keep one of these Men.”
“You really should be a little more considerate, Bella. These Men didn’t come here to ridicule you, although you’ve certainly given them reason to.”
“Dude,” Isaac said, jabbing Mundo in the gut. “Look at the munchkin in her hair.”
Mundo looked over to see a young man, probably in his early twenties, relaxing in the countess’ tiara. He had his back against the ruby gem and his legs dangling over the silver band that prodded through the girl’s thick locks of hair. What made him so remarkable, though, was that he was well groomed, unlike any Man in Neverquest. Or the real world. His hair was combed back, slick and dark, and he wore white and blue garments that made him look of noble status.
“What the hell?” Mundo said, rising from the grapefruit. “Why does he get special treatment?”
Isaac shrugged. “That girl must have a thing for him.”
For the first time, Mundo took note of Olivia as well. “…I think I got a thing for her. And it’s growing.”
“That’s sick, man.”
“Come on, let’s go talk to her.”
“She looks busy.”
“She looks bored. What’s your problem?”
Isaac turned away. “Forget it, man. When you have a girl, you don’t want to look at any others.”
“What are you talking about? That’s the best time to look at others! No worries about rejection. No worries about maintaining a long-term relationship. It’s just a fantasy.”
“Yeah, a fantasy without your girl.”
“Exactly!”
“Have you even seen a girl naked?”
“Yeah.”
“Aside from the Internet.”
“…Why doesn’t the Internet count?”
“Because it’s not real,” Isaac said. “Damn, man, you should know that. There’s a whole world out there, you know.”
“Yeah, a world that we’ll never see again.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Mundo looked over at Olivia again. “Look, you can stay here with Queen Ditzabella or you can come with me. I feel safer with that chick. She gives me vibes.”
“She gives you an erection. Cover your pants, man.”
“Oh, geez, do you think you’ll notice?”
“No, it’s not very big.”
“Whew, that’s good. So are you coming or not?”
“…No. I’m going to wait here for Kim. She’ll come rescue us.”
“Okay, man,” Mundo shrugged. “Whatever. Good luck with Miss Universe. Hope she doesn’t squish ya.”
Giantess World
