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The 7th of Misuthar, 837 PD.
The hustle and bustle of the capital city of Emon is even livelier than usual today. There is a certain kind of energy running wild through the streets as the commonfolk and many of the upper class make their way to a specific locale within the Temple District.
It’s a kind of energy that is all too familiar to two particular women who are also among the crowd, as they themselves are no strangers to it.
It was the best kind of vacation that a newly-engaged couple like Beauregard Lionett and Yasha Nydoorin could ever hope for.
It had been three months since the trial of Adon Zeenoth and her father Thoreau Lionett. The last she had heard before the end of the year, her father was soon going to be released upon serving his sentence, and his fines were definitely not cheap. It’s what the bastard deserved for all the shit he put her through.
The only question that had remained was whether he had thoroughly learned his lesson or would go back to being a shitstain on society masquerading as a successful wine baron.
But that was something to unpack later. It was a time for celebration. And last Horisal’s New Dawn vacation on Rumblecusp that was organized by Jester, because of course it would be her, was exactly the palate cleanser that everyone needed. And Beau hadn’t seen the others in so long, so it was the perfect excuse for a get-together.
Sure enough, upon arriving via the Nein Heroez, the bar that she’d founded — the Fuckin’ Beaurebar — had surprisingly been flourishing; thanks to the occasional ships passing by in need of a break, the island and its community were able to prosper.
The party had all the stops pulled, from a contest of strength between the muscles of the Mighty Nein that saw Jester emerge the victor despite even Yasha’s best efforts to a full-on concert led by the aasimar herself thanks to her improved confidence and skill with a harp. It was well worth getting everyone involved, complete with Caleb’s programmed illusions enhancing the atmosphere on top of Veth and Fjord providing the pyrotechnics. Caduceus and Essek contributed to the festivities in their own way; dead people tea to combat hangovers from the former and the book club for Veth’s summer club students hosted by the latter.
Even Vandran, Fjord’s former captain, was brought along “on loan”, so to speak, to act as the cook for the event. And boy were there plenty of embarrassing stories that came about, including how much everyone apart from Fjord still sucked at replicating Vandran’s accent. Until the end of her days, Beau will never forget hearing “Eldritch Blast” muttered in so many horrendous drawls.
Sadly, the only one who couldn’t attend was Kingsley, being that he was part of the Revelry now and thus had to keep his distance, lest he sink the Nein Heroez on sight if she ever got too close to Darktow as per the Plank King’s decree.
Clearly, their King had his work cut out for him if he was to convince another to drop that ban.
It was, in fact, during their vacation that “the question” was finally popped. Neither Beau nor Yasha really figured out who said it first, as they did so at the same time, but in the end it didn’t really matter. They were… going to be married. That alone was cause for even more celebration. And there were definitely talks about what to do for the ceremony as well as what they should do on their honeymoon. But the first task they agreed on was to touch up the cottage they bought together outside of Rexxentrum.
Among the guests that day on Rumblecusp were Allura Vysoren and her wife Lady Kima. And it was around the time that the festivities were wrapping up that Kima had brought up a special event set to occur on the 7th of Misuthar, which she herself frequented every year in the Godsbrawl Ring in Emon.
The event in question was to occur on the “Day of Challenging”, the Stormlord’s holy day, where his brawny priests invited warriors and worshipers of the entire pantheon to the Godsbrawl, asking that each temple offer forth their greatest warrior to act as their god’s proxy in the tournament. Simply put, if you were a skilled warrior and represented any of the Prime Deities, you could be given the call to action and participate in a glorious contest of strength, will, and combat. Also, the victory ale was to die for.
Oh, and there was also the “Luncheon of Champions” or whatever that was that would take place in that Whitestone place but sadly was only held every four years, with the most recent being last year. Beau can only imagine what kind of person had thought that one up, let alone only made it quadrennial.
And Lady Kima had quite some choice words to say about the clergy of the Dawnfather and the Lawbearer, specifically, calling them lightweights despite having their own champions who participate. They rarely took it seriously every year, for they scorned the storm-priests’ notion of “might makes right.”
It was utterly laughable for a paladin of the Platinum Dragon. And sure enough, Yasha had to agree even though her time as an adventurer was long behind her.
And yet, she still had that itch. She wanted to knock the rust off every once in a while, which is why she kept Magician’s Judge and had Skingorger and Obann’s breastplate melted down.
“You know,” Kima had mentioned, “if you want to prove yourself, you should take part in the Godsbrawl this year. I’m definitely going to take part… being the reigning champion and all.”
That had gotten Yasha’s attention, and she was all too quick to accept the invite. A series of back and forth convos later, and new vacation plans were decided.
And so here they are, a month later, in the Temple District of Emon.
Wishing her fiancée luck, Beau gives Yasha a smooch as she makes her way to the stands along with Allura, who had also seen her own partner off.
“Fiancée”… Beau’s still getting used to calling Yasha that. And sure enough, she’ll be her wife. Life can be so strange, yet so fulfilling and replete with surprises.
“So Kima does this every year, huh?” Beau asks the Archmage as they find their seats in the stands. The din of the sanctum is loud even before the fights have started, but not too loud for Allura to not notice.
Even so, instead of speaking aloud, she reaches for a copper wire not unlike what Caleb and Veth had used before to cast Message directly into Beau’s ear.
“Without fail,” Allura replies with a fondness in her tone. “And she is currently the reigning champion here. Last year her opponent came close but ultimately lost his title. A shame, because I was rooting for him as well, being a mutual friend.”
Beau snickers. “Cheering for both sides, huh? And Kima’s not a little annoyed at you for it?”
Allura just shakes her head. There’s a look in her eyes that tells Beau a lot about the relationship between the human and halfling. From that, as well as the slightly furrowed brows that would be unnoticeable to all but the most observant, a story forms in Beau’s head. A story of how much hardship the two of them must have gone through. Hardship, heartache, and reconciliation.
It’s a look that she’s seen in Yasha for a long time, and she can only assume that that same look often appeared on her own face.
“You and Kima went through a lot of shit, didn’t you?”
Beau hadn’t intended to blurt that out — gods dammit, she still has a tendency to put her foot in her mouth at the worst times — but Allura took that in stride.
“Yes. Far too long of a story to tell, I’m afraid. Perhaps later—”
The din of the stadium quickly rose up, quashing any further conversation. The two blue-clad women turned their attention to the ring below. The festivities were underway, as the first pair of combatants were being introduced.
“One and all,” the priest acting as emcee bellows out with the aid of Thaumaturgy, “welcome to the annual Godsbrawl! Today, we shall pay tribute to Kord, the Stormlord, and marvel in the champions of his might and that of his brethren. Before we officially commence with the first bout of the day, please follow me as we recite his Commandments.”
Beau clears her throat, as does Allura. Prior to disembarking two days ago for Emon, she had a discussion with Dairon about the Stormlord’s holy day. In particular, before each Godsbrawl, the commandments were to be spoken aloud as a prayer, and she had made sure to memorize them all.
“Bravery above all. There is no glory in cowardice. Strength is the path to greatness, but greatness is the responsible use of strength. The glory of the Stormlord lives through your own glory on the battlefield.”
With the commandments recited, the emcee speaks once more, “Now… let us begin!”
Upon the word “begin” being shouted, the gates on opposite sides of the ring are raised. The first to appear is a person that easily stands out to Beau.
A small gnomish woman marches out into the ring, clad in a suit of golden plate armor adorned with silver and brass engravings, finely cut rubies, and the symbol of the Dawnfather. In one hand was a shield engraved with an image reminiscent of a woman with angel wings wreathed in flames and holding a ruby to the heavens above, a shortsword in the other that had a layer of permafrost coating its edge. White hair not unlike Yasha’s that was styled into fun buns, a determined smile across her face, a scar across her left eye that matched Beau’s own, a holy symbol that matched the design on her shield, gauntlets with the face of an ogre, boots of speed recolored to match her armor, and a mace affixed to her side.
All in all, Beau couldn’t help but be impressed… and perhaps a little aroused to the point where she has to pinch herself; she’s already a taken woman. Despite her small stature, she looked every bit like a badass. But she also looked… familiar. Try as she might, Beau just can’t put her finger on it.
“First up, a gnome unlike any other. Cleric and champion of the Everlight, hero of Tal’Dorei, and member of our very own Vox Machina! Don’t let her name fool you, for her heart is as pure as her judgment is swift. I present Westruun’s very own beacon of hope, her gnomish goddess… the one, the only… Pike Trickfoot!”
The cheers are instantly deafening, causing Beau to wince a little. Clearly, this Pike person is a very big deal. And did the guy say she was once a part of “Vox Machina, heroes of… Tal’Dorei?!”
That phrase… and the way the gnome carries herself…
It suddenly comes back to her.
“HEY! I fought that gnome somewhere! I know her!”
She couldn’t help but shout. But even that was lost to the crowd. Thankfully, Allura’s casting of Message cuts through the noise. “Did you say you know Pike from somewhere?”
Beau shakes her head. “Long story! I’ll tell you later!”
Allura nods as the crowd settles down. It was now time for the second combatant to make their entrance.
From her vantage point, Beau sees past the open gate.
Her heart skips a beat. She wasn’t expecting to see her so soon.
“And from the far-off continent of Wildemount, hailing from the wastes of Xhorhas and gracing us with her radiant presence today, in this corner… a champion who has gone from the fallen depths of the hells to the radiant skies of Exandria, whose primal screams bellow with the boom of thunder, the Avatar of our very own Stormlord, I bring to you… the Punisher, the Redeemer, the Chainbreaker, the Orphanmaker—“
Almost as if on command, Beau stands up and shouts, “OrphanTAKER, asshole! And hey! That’s my wife you’re addressing!”
Okay, not quite my wife yet but… fuck it, close enough!
The emcee turns and looks in her direction, as does the entire crowd. He then clears his throat. “Um, right… ANYWAY! The one, the only… Yasha Nydoorin-Lionett!”
The crowd is roaring once more with cheers and shouts of jubilant glee and adoration as Yasha walks into the sandy pit of the arena, shedding off her shawl and cloak and handing them to a nearby acolyte. There, in one hand, is the familiar shape of the Magician’s Judge, freshly polished and sharpened and ready to cut a bitch or two.
Now more than ever, Beau couldn’t be happier that she’s engaged to this divine damsel of an angel, especially while here in Emon on the Day of Challenging.
And just hearing the union of their surnames warms Beau’s heart so much. A long time ago, just having the surname of “Lionett” felt like a heavy chain, a lingering expectation thrust upon her. That chain had since been broken, she had taken ownership of that name, having thoroughly disgraced the man who bore it as she made it her own. And now she has the joy of having her name and Yasha’s be one and the same.
The angelkin and the lioness that broke their chains of misery and fate.
“I'm so proud of the person that you've become. Just seeing where you started and where you are now, you have completely done that on your own. And I just, I’m— You blow me away!”
“Feeling’s mutual, Yash,” Beau mutters to herself, never forgetting what Yasha had said to her that fateful night, the night that they came together and stayed together from that moment on.
The crowd continues to chant Yasha’s name. And even from this far away, she can see her wife—because fuck yes, she is going to be—resist the urge to go into a rage right away just to get this started.
How funny. For someone who hates having the spotlight on her so much, here in this arena, she seems right at home. Some things you can never truly cast off, even when you’ve committed to living a peaceful life.
It’s good to let her warrior blood boil once in a while. Beau only regrets that she hadn’t bothered to sign herself up for this, even if that meant that she and Yasha would’ve ended up competing against each other.
No. Can’t think about those times. I don’t ever want to raise my hand to strike Yasha ever again, even by choice.
Her chest pains her a little. That godsdamned scar again, a reminder of one of the darkest days of their collective lives. A reminder that had things turned out differently, neither of them would be here today, let alone be together for just barely half a year now.
Maybe… I wish that neither of us ever had to deal with that. Even now, Yasha doesn’t want to talk about it, and I know I should keep leaving it alone, but…
She wishes she could, just as much as she wishes she could forget all about losing Mollymauk… or the hag… or even how thoroughly violated she was—body, mind, and soul—against the Somnovem’s “Pattern”, one red eye at a time, the constant fear of losing her very self permeating her every thought even as the Mighty Nein scrambled to stop the return of Cognouza…
Beau shudders as her head is swimming with nausea, seeing those godsdamned red eyes beneath her closed mortal blues. It fuckin’ figures that her fuckin’ PTSD had to rear its ugly head now of all times. She’s still hearing the whispers every now and then even when awake, phantom voices “welcoming” her to possibilities beyond her human limits… even though she knows them to be empty promises.
She feels a hand on her shoulder. “Beauregard?”
Beau opens her eyes, realizing that she was crying, and turns to face Allura who has a truly concerned look on her face.
“I’m all right. Just… reminiscing…”
Not entirely untrue, I’d just rather NOT, she leaves unsaid as she shakes her head and tries to pull herself together.
This is meant to be a day of fun, of celebration. A day of the recognition of strength and valor.
“Bravery above all. There is no glory in cowardice. Strength is the path to greatness, but greatness is the responsible use of strength. The glory of the Stormlord lives through your own glory on the battlefield.”
Beau recovers her composure after reciting those commandments in her head, praying to the Stormlord that she be given such strength herself as she watches on.
Of all the opponents that Yasha had been anticipating for her debut at the Godsbrawl, she hadn’t expected someone so… so…
“You’re pretty tall,” the gnome woman, Pike Trickfoot, remarks about her opponent.
“You’re pretty small,” Yasha replies in earnest. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Do you?” Pike declares with so much confidence as she flexes and gets into a calm and collected battle stance. Based on her posture, Yasha can only surmise that Pike is a cleric that cares less about healing and more about harming. A war priest, in other words.
Yasha’s own confidence begins to wane. Together with the Mighty Nein, she and Beau had faced many mighty adversaries, but rarely alone… nor did they ever truly go up against someone legendary.
The pressure was well and truly on, and she was about to lose it…
“Don’t worry about it!” Pike is smiling, as if she has the face of an angel. Ironic, given her opponent is angelkin herself. “Just give it your all. And perhaps when this is over, we should get some drinks!’
Yasha hesitates for a moment. The cleric’s words have a definite effect on her heart.
“FUCK HER UP, BABE!”
But nowhere near as much of an effect as the voice of her darling wife in the stands.
Pike turns to look in Beau’s direction. There is some sort of look in her eyes… something bordering on recognition? But the look is soon shaken away as she turns back to meet Yasha’s gaze.
“Glad you got someone in your corner.”
“I’ll bring her along as well,” Yasha replies. Her pre-battle jitters fade, the intensity and confidence from before returning in full.
She was ready to rumble. And ready to fuck shit up.
Even against a supposed “legend” like the gnome before her.
“Challengers, Kord’s strength to you both. Are you ready?”
The two warriors nod, swords gripped tightly.
“BEGIN!”
The crowd erupts as their blades clash in a fury of divine light, fire, frost, and lightning.
The matches flew by in the blink of an eye. Pike held up well, but ultimately Yasha managed to prevail. Beau couldn’t be more proud of her.
Then she watched her fiancée advance step by step, all the way to the top where she fought against Lady Kima herself.
Unfortunately, for as strong and nigh-unkillable as Yasha was, even she had her limits. And she had found herself overwhelmed by her smaller and more seasoned opponent.
And then… as if by accident… it happened.
The moment it did, Beau was at her feet, as was Allura.
It was all she could do to scream Yasha’s name. That, and run like hell to get to her.
Because things had just taken a turn for the worse.
Her eyes open to white. She feels pain all over her body. Her memory is fuzzy at first.
And then, little by little, she remembers.
She climbed the ranks of the Godsbrawl ladder, after having narrowly defeated her first opponent. She had continued to be bolstered by the cheers of the crowd, feeling like she was on top of the world.
That is, until she faced her final opponent, the reigning champion herself: Lady Kima.
She had anticipated Kima to be truly formidable. And she was indeed.
The white fades as her vision returns to her, blurry and then clearing.
She’s in the infirmary, having finally woken up from the utter thrashing she had endured.
Ah, now it’s become clear.
She lost. Badly. She clearly has a lot to learn, though her loss could also be due to being out of practice. The rust lingered, it seemed.
In fact, she is hurting all over, a lot more than usual. She hadn’t felt like this since—
She hears footsteps heading in her direction. She turns her head, straining with the effort due to her grievous injuries, and meets the gaze of her blue-eyed fiancée.
“You finally woke up,” Beauregard says with a sigh of relief.
Yasha groans loudly, unable to keep her eyes open. “How… bad…”
“Dude… Kima utterly destroyed you… Hell, I think she may have overdone it and…”
Yasha can only laugh. Her fault, honestly, for overestimating her capabilities.
She knew that the final round of the Godsbrawl meant that it would be no-holds-barred and very bloody… but she hadn’t anticipated that rarely it could prove fatal.
She hears Beau step closer and feel her hand being held tight. “You’re lucky there were more clerics around and you hadn’t eliminated the only one there. You… uh…”
“I died, didn’t I?”
There is no response from Beau for a bit, but then she exhales sharply. “It seemed that way for a bit… but she didn’t mean to, she was so absorbed in the fight that she accidentally struck a mortal blow. But then you… you just kept on fighting. You kept going on and on, as if you were unkillable. That… kinda gave her the impetus to go all-out… and…”
Now Yasha understands. It’s exactly the feeling she had been thinking of. It was just like in that dream.
“We didn’t realize until it was almost too late that you were fighting while you were dying,” Beau continued to explain. “So when your rage finally gave out, so did you… and that prompted Kima to try to revivify you right then and there. And it must’ve not been fatal after all, because…”
“Because…?” Yasha echoed her partner’s unfinished statement. She opened her eyes once more to meet Beau’s, and what she is met with is tears falling and eyes rubbed red.
“Well… her diamond didn’t shatter. Meaning you must’ve still been alive and just needed a pick-me-up.”
Yasha is at a loss for words. She now recalls how the entire battlefield may as well have been soaked in her blood. Most of it, anyway. And she did feel her spirit begin to slip away, only to snap back and meet Kima’s wide eyes and hear the clattering of a whole diamond on the ground.
As if on cue, right behind Beau, Lady Kima stepped into the room and walked up to Yasha. “Are you all right, Yasha?”
The barbarian nods. “I am, thanks to you. I’m sorry I made you worry. Maybe I didn’t die after all, if whatever spell you used simply woke me up?”
She attempts to write it off as a joke, but there is a look on Kima’s face to suggest that it was far more serious than it should be. It’s there for a moment before the halfling heroine shakes her head. “Perhaps. Still, you put up a hell of a fight. Well done, even if you didn’t win.”
“Thanks for inviting us,” Yasha replies as she offers Kima a fist-bump, which the paladin returns in kind. “Um, I think I would like some more time to take a nap. Maybe after, we can get some drinks?”
“That would be nice,” Kima says as she nods to Beau and then to Yasha before taking her leave.
It’s not long after the paladin’s departure that Beau turns to face her, and boy does Yasha not like the expression on her fiancee’s face.
“Yash. This… This feels too familiar…”
“T-To what, Beau?” Yasha can’t quite mask the quake in her own voice.
“It’s just like what you told us about yourself… the reason why Obann singled you out.”
Ah, there it is. The demonic elephant in the room. Of course she hadn’t forgotten what she herself had learned while in his company.
The fact that she is more resistant to death than others, the fact that…
“Kima’s diamond didn’t shatter, but you definitely died out there. Is that what you meant by being ‘easier to be brought back’?”
Beau’s already finished the thought for her. Of course she’d figure it out. She’s very smart, after all.
“Y-Yeah, I think so,” she replies meekly. “I never thought I’d actually… experience it at this point. I…”
Beau doesn’t let her finish talking as she pulls Yasha into a sitting position and hugs her tight. Yasha ignores her still tender wounds as she returns the hug.
“Dammit… I didn’t want to see that happen…”
“It’s okay, Beau…” She kisses the top of Beau’s head. “I’m okay. And Kima did save me. We’re good… aren’t we?”
Sobs and whines are Beau’s reply as the aasimar continues to be the one comforting her. Strange, it honestly should be the other way around.
“When we get home… you’re going to take it easier than usual, okay?”
Yasha nods. “Okay. I will. Besides, I need to tend to our garden. My babies need me.”
Her deadpan delivery is met with awkward silence, followed by a weak chuckle that gradually becomes stronger. It’s almost ludicrous that so much tension and angst can be defused by her rather dry humor.
Then again, Molly did refer to her as “the charm”, even with her lackluster charisma.
The air slowly becomes less tense and more jovial as the tears dry up. Moments later, the head priest of the sanctum gives their permission and the two women make their leave and head to a tavern that Kima had talked about prior to today’s event.
Surely, they would end up meeting her there.
And surely, upon making it home the next day, they could begin to look forward to the rest of their lives together in peace.
If only it were that simple, for very early the next morning, Beau is suddenly frozen in place, her attention completely elsewhere as she sits upright in their bed.
“Beau?” Yasha asks her fiancée, her very posture growing tense as if she were about to get into another fight.
Beau holds a hand up, a gesture to suggest that there is silence. Yasha takes a moment to realize that it’s due to a Sending spell being cast.
“Are you serious? Why is he there right now? I need more details than that!”
Something’s wrong, Yasha can feel it. Beau is rarely ever this agitated or distraught anymore.
Just as Yasha casts Light on the unlit lantern nearby, she can see the color drain from Beau’s face before she regains her composure. “Keep him right there. I’ll be right over as soon as I can.”
After a few moments, Yasha goes to rub Beau’s back to help her steady her nerves.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
It takes a moment longer before Beau meets her fiancee’s gaze. “I need to get to Zadash right now. Something’s happened.”
Yasha frowns. “To whom? You mentioned a ‘he’, right?”
Beau nods. “It’s someone I once knew back in Kamordah. Dairon said that he had something urgent to tell me.”
Yasha just hums in affirmation as Beau gets out of bed and grabs some common clothes to wear. They had just gotten home and already Beau had to go back to work?
Why must life be so unfair?
“Do me a favor. Can you make sure there’s breakfast ready for when I get back? No clue how long I’ll be.”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
Beau smiles as she gives Yasha a kiss. “Be back soon. I love you.”
“Love you too,” is her reply as Beau bolts out the door and out of the house. Gods damn, that girl can run.
Yasha sighs melodramatically as she gets out of bed and heads downstairs a moment later.
With Beau’s speed, the distance from the cottage to the archive is mercifully short. But even so, given how she hadn’t dressed properly for the early chilly morning, she’s still left shivering slightly.
Despite all that, it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump to the teleportation circles, and even less than that to arrive back in her old stomping grounds that is the Valley Archive in Zadash.
Upon exiting the library after grabbing a light jacket, Beau is met with a halfling gentleman sitting outside on a bench, one that she hadn’t met in a long time.
“Benny! Long time no see, you old bastard!”
The old guy sees her and stands up to have enough length to hug her. “Well, if it isn’t the little lion herself, though you ain’t so little anymore!”
Beau just smiles. Not all of Kamordah was shitty, as Benny was one of the few redeeming parts of her life there. “So why are you here? I was told you wanted to talk to me about something important?”
As they break the hug, what Beau is met with is a rather morose look on the halfling’s face. “It’s… it’s about your mum.”
“W-What about her?”
“She’s here, Beau. In town… and she almost didn’t make it here…”
If looks could kill, the stricken glare from Beauregard Lionett would’ve slain Benny outright. “What do you mean by that?”
“She was attacked… and almost died. It was… your old man.”
It’s only then that Beau notices the dried blood on Benny’s sleeves. Did it belong to…
Mom.
For a moment, there is silence… before the morning stillness is suddenly shattered by an ear-piercing roar.