Not too much later, Charis found herself quite drunk. Her skin flushed and her head swimming pleasantly, she chattered with her friends quite happily as festivities got under way.
“In previous iterations of this tournament,” explained Milan, “Vane held them in dark, secretive locales. Last year the tournament was held in an underground dungeon and only a hundred or so people attended.”
“You mean kind of like that old movie, Bloodsport?” asked Rima loudly. Predictably, the alcohol had made her much more gregarious.
Milan arched an eyebrow. “You like vintage martial arts movies?” he asked incredulously. To Charis’s shock, the pair began prattling on about Jean Claude Van Damme like a pair of bespectacled nerds. She looked at Gage, who only shrugged in reply. He nursed a beverage of his own, but it didn’t seem to loosen him up appreciably. Charis took another swallow of her drink and shifted closer to where he stood on the table, resting her chin on her hands so that they could speak to each other on an equal footing.
“Hey, Gage, what’s up with you these days?” she queried.
“Just want to get this over with so that I can go back to my normal size,” he replied noncommittally.
“Yeah, me too,” she agreed. “I think that – ”
“Hey, do you have Alicia?” interrupted Rima.
“Yeah, why?” asked Charis suspiciously.
“Let’s get her drunk!”
Now it was Charis’s turn to arch an eyebrow. A short stare down ensued, but it was unceremoniously interrupted when Rima lunged for Charis’s boot and began trying to yank it off.
“Okay, okay, stop!” protested Charis with a huff. “I’ll do it myself.” Grabbing her footwear, she shook its contents out onto the table.
“Ew!” said Rima. “No socks, Charis? That’s just cruel,” she giggled.
Alicia did look pretty pathetic. Clearly weakened by the many hours spent inside Charis’s boot, the diminutive woman flopped onto the table and remained inert.
“Look at her, she’s covered in your foot sweat! And she stinks!” laughed Rima. For reasons she didn’t quite understand, Charis actually blushed. She looked to see if any of her friends had noticed, but of course Rima was too focused on Alicia, while Gage still couldn’t be bothered with much of anything. Milan looked out at the other players gathered in the hall with studied indifference. “You really shouldn’t have been such a bitch to us, you know,” chided Rima with an air of superiority. “I know that we’re being pretty cruel to you, but I feel like you and your friends were a lot worse.” Rima spoke in a conspiratorial tone, like she was letting someone in on an inside joke. When she withdrew her wand from inside her cloak, Alicia cringed instinctively. “Oh quit with the drama,” Rima scoffed. She pointed the wand at the little woman and promptly cast a healing spell, which visibly mended her many bruises.
“What are you doing?” asked Charis, probably too loudly.
“This.” Without warning, Charis pinched Alicia’s ankle between thumb and forefinger, lifted her up over a glass full of neat whiskey (Rima’s preferred beverage), and began dunking her head first into the alcoholic liquid. Alicia looked like a shipwreck survivor, which sent both Rima and Charis into waves of laughter. Not wanting to be left out of the fun, Charis followed suit; a few more dunks, and Alicia had caught up to them.
“I think I’m going to head back to the suites,” announced Gage all of a sudden.
“Why?” asked Charis, her voice disappointed.
“I’m not feeling well,” he replied. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.” With that, he stepped onto his miniature disc and flew off.
“Wait – won’t he be in danger?” asked Rima.
“Don’t worry,” said Milan. “I’ll go with him. Try not to have too much fun, ladies.”
Charis glowered for a moment, her eyes following Milan’s impeccable suit before returning to Alicia. “This is all your fault, you bitch” she said accusingly. On a sudden, malicious impulse, she spat on the hateful woman, knocking her down with a disgusting glob of saliva. “Ever since the day we met you, Gage hasn’t been the same. I should just fucking…” her voice choked with anger even as she raised her hand with obvious intentions.
“No! Please, wait!” squealed Alicia, her hands instinctively over her head. “I’m so sorry, I really am!” she cried.
Charis’s eyes narrowed on the little woman. “That’s not good enough.”
“Please, just hear me out,” Alicia begged.
“No,” replied Charis coldly. She whipped her hand downwards, only for Rima to stop it midway.
“Don’t be stupid, Charis,” said Rima. “I hate her too, but we need Alicia for the tournament.” Rima snatched the little woman from the table, both to protect her from Charis’s instability and also to dry her off on the fabric of her cloak. Alicia began to sob uncontrollably, her stoic mask crumbling underneath the combination of fear and alcohol. “Besides…” continued Rima in a more gentle tone. “We can’t hold a grudge like this forever. If nothing else, it’s just plain unattractive.”
“But don’t you remember everything she did to us?” protested Charis. She couldn’t help but feel betrayed.
“Yes, of course I remember,” said Rima. “But at some point we have to let these things go.” She gazed at Charis from beneath her white locks, her expression soft yet firm. “Promise me you’ll let her go after we restore Gage’s size.”
Hot indignation rose up in Charis’s body. She couldn’t possibly let this slide. She opened her mouth to give Rima a piece of her mind… but instead of a blistering tirade, Charis could only sigh heavily. She slumped back into her chair and hung her head. “You’re right. As much as I hate that little bitch, I just don’t have it in me to keep this up forever.”
Alicia still in one hand, Rima pulled her friend into a hug. “I knew you’d do the right thing,” she said. “But look on the bright side – we can still mess with her until the end of the tournament!”
“Huh?”
Rima drew back from the hug and held up the little woman between them. “She has to try her best to help us win, because that’s the only chance she’ll have of returning back to her old size.”
“That’s right, I knew that,” said Charis with a finger to her chin. “So the question is what should we do with her?”
“Please don’t hurt me,” squeaked Alicia, surprising both of them by daring to speak at all. “I’ll happily keep licking your feet, but please don’t hurt me!”
“What if we just cut her arms off or something?” suggested Rima. Alicia flinched noticeably.
Charis grinned as she looked down at the tiny woman. “You know, that does sound nice – but I think you’ve made me soft with all of this talk about mercy or whatever.” Predictably, Alicia’s face lit up with hope. “In fact, if she wants to lick feet so badly, we should try to accommodate her. Would you like that, Alicia?”
“Yes, yes please – I’d love to lick your beautiful toes.” Charis had never seen Alicia brown nose so blatantly. Usually she obeyed readily enough, but with obvious aversion. To her credit, she somehow maintained a cold dignity despite Charis’s most humiliating commands. Right now, though, she was like a puppy. The booze probably had something to do with it.
“Wow,” commented Rima. “Alicia’s more fun when she’s like this.”
Charis nodded as she raised a hand to flag down one of the “angels” strutting around.
“How can I help you?” she asked politely.
“Actually,” began Charis, “we want to help you.” The blonde beauty looked confused. “You’ve probably been walking around all day in those white pumps – your feet must be killing you.” The girl nodded hesitantly. “Well I think we have just the thing for you.”