MIGHT OR MAGIC?
 
by Bitter
 
 
They had never liked each other, not since the first day they had met. They were the same age, born no more than a week apart in the peasant village of Talnattaran on the outskirts of the kingdom of Kelmecht. In this world of wild beasts, monsters and worse, humans had claimed a niche, but safety was a luxury that those on the borders could rarely afford. So it came to pass that a girl named Angie and a boy named Juko were inducted into the local branch of the warrior's guild and trained in the ways of fighting.
 
Angie was the daughter of a higher-caste man, albeit a relative measure given how far removed her rural home was from actual nobility. Her father was what a city-dweller might derisively call "a king of shepherds": an overseer of some of the most menial laborers in their society. But her father was not a proud man; he knew exactly how little power he actually held, and for that reason he was kind to those beneath him. He made a habit of taking Angie with him on visits to their shepherds, because he felt it was important that she develop the same sense of brotherhood with those beneath them that he had. One one such visit, she had been out among the sheep, on the other side of the herd from her father and the shepherd, when a wolf came over a hill, stalking. Her father and the shepherd saw the wolf and called for her, but she hardly appeared to hear them. With a grave calmness, she stooped, picked up a stick from the ground, and stepped toward the wolf. It lunged for her, and she slashed it with the stick's pointed ends until the wolf retreated, yelping. All of a sudden her father, having crossed the field in the meantime, swept her up, cradled her in his arms, and said, "Why? Why did you do that?" Looking up at him, perfectly unperturbed, Angie replied, "The wolf would have eaten the sheep if I didn't." Right then, it was clear that the spirit of protection was in her, and her father presented her to the warrior's guild to be trained as a knight.
 
At about the same time, generally speaking, a dreadful realization would lead Juko to that same guild. His mother, a baker-woman, had just prepared the final batch of oatmeal cookies that she could make with what supplies she had. The grains were in ready supply, but sugar was something that very rarely made its way to Talnattaran, and the opportunity to make something sweet was cause for celebration. In her jubilation (for she was a merry woman, a bit round about the edges as makers of food are wont to be), she had made the mistake of allowing Juko to eat a cookie out of the first batch. She did not consider it a mistake to please her children, but some patience on her part might have been warranted. Having gotten the taste of oatmeal cookies, Juko of course found himself wanting what any child wants: more. He said so: "Mama, I want another!" His mother answered him, in the sing-songy tone that mothers sometimes use, "Now, Juko, you've already had one. The rest are for the rest of us." Juko, being a child, offered this rebuttal: "But mama, I want another!" With that, he stamped his foot. But the gesture did far more than even Juko intended it to. For a single terrifying instant the earth shook beneath them, and the ground split in two beneath the house. One side of it dropped by a building-stone's height, causing the roof to wobble slightly before settling back to rest in a new position. Juko's mother said nothing. She simply picked him up at the waist, placed him under her arm, carried him like that all the way to the warrior's guild, told them what had happened, and left him there. Juko never saw his mother again.
 
That was how it happened that Angie and Juko, both twelve years old at the time, joined the ranks of the warrior's guild. And they couldn't stand each other from the first time they had laid eyes on the other in that huge stone cabin. Perhaps it was the similarity in their appearance. Angie's hair fell dutifully to her shoulders, while Juko's was tussled and unkempt and tied itself up around his ears, but they both wore the same shade of light brown on their heads, with eyes to match. They wore the same style of clothing-- hempen shirts and pants, unadorned, tied tight at the waist with ropes. Or perhaps it was the difference in their bearing: Angie carried herself like a noblewoman, with a quiet, honest dignity that might have allowed her to pass for a princess if she didn't so immediately admit to being a peasant; Juko, on the other hand, slouched, complained, and spoke his mind, especially when his mind was on something he wanted. But mere rivalry or clash of personality could not explain how deeply their enmity ran. There was something instinctual about it, the way a cat's fur will rise up at the mere sight of certain people. They would not talk to one another save to hurl insults, would not look at each other save to keep track of them, would not practice with one another save to try to best the other.
 
This last fact led to its natural consequence: Angie and Juko soon became the greatest of their kinds that any journeyman in the guild had ever seen. Competition breeds excellence, and the fires of their rivalry forged them into great weapons of battle. Angie, under the direction of the guild's trained soldiers, learned to fight with every weapon in the guild master's repertoire, and found a favorite in the pike. She learned to tumble and roll in heavy armor, and how to deflect and batter with the shield. Juko, training under the guild's warlocks, learned a measure of patience and gained control of his powers. By the end of his training, he could lift a mass of earth ten feet square from the ground with a wave of his hand, shatter it into a thousand pieces with a clench of his fist, make the pieces spin and dance with a gesture, and then with no more than a thought hurl each and every piece at a target a hundred paces away, as if they were tiny earthen arrowheads, and have each hit its mark.
 
Very soon after they first met, Angie and Juko's rhetoric reached beyond the mere challenge of overcoming one another. Their feud became far more personal. Time has forgotten who said it first, but each claimed that their style was superior to the other's. Angie said that magic was too wild and costly to be broadly useful-- a parlor trick at best, not fit for real fighting. Warriors should rely on their bodies, she said, and their own might. In response, Juko claimed that strength was too simple, too predictable, and too limited to accomplish anything of merit. Let the shepherds swat wolves, he said, the mages would strike down dragons. Angie demanded proof, and Juko offered to provide it: a duel, at the anniversary of their meeting, to prove whose style was strongest. In their time at the guild, they had six such duels-- of which Angie won three, and Juko won three. The last of these took place shortly before commencement, when each was accepted as journeymen into the guild. After that, the two went their separate ways, each bidding the other to continue growing, lest their defeat when next their paths crossed serve as final proof of their style's inferiority. There was a hint, and only a hint, of fondness in these proclamations, if only because we hate to part with that which is familiar to us.
 
---
 
A year passed before the two met again. The dwarfs of the Kronstrang Mountains, in the north, had put out a cry for help: their mining tunnels were overrun with kobolds, so much so that even the famed resolve of the dwarven warriors could not hold against them. As dwarfs provided a number of vital resources to the world, not just stone and diamonds but a rare subterranean fungus relied on for its healing properties, they were not alone in their plight. Top fighters from the world over converged on the Kronstrangs to lend their talents, Angie and Juko among them. They joined raiding parties and drove back the kobolds, until the foul creatures dared not show their faces in dwarven mines again. Angie and Juko, ever diligent, were among the last to return to more typical adventurer fare, and ventured deep into the mines in search of any straggling kobolds to turn out. By chance, they happened to meet each other in one of the tunnels, illuminated by the eerie blue glow of the lantern mushrooms the dwarfs planted in their mineshafts.
 
Angie clacked the tip of her pike against the stone floor. "Juko. Fancy meeting you here," she said.
 
"Angie. Same to you," Juko said.
 
"You've worked off the baby fat, I see," Angie said. Indeed, a life of wandering the world had trimmed the over-indulged frame of his childhood and apprenticeship down to a more healthy build. He was wearing a set of simple gray robes and a cloak that trailed behind him. His hair, given the same callous disregard as he had always shown it, had grown out to his shoulders with a year of nobody forcing him to have it trimmed any more.
 
Juko gave her a sneering grin. "I'd return the compliment, but I can hardly tell how you look under all that armor." It was true. She was covered, head to toe, in wrought iron mail. If she hadn't addressed him by name, she might well have been any other pikeman.
 
"Same as always," said Angie.
 
"No fun at all," said Juko, nodding.
 
Angie simply hmphed at him. "Certainly none to be had out of these kobolds."
 
"Then why don't we find something more challenging?" said Juko.
 
"I can only think of one thing like that right now," said Angie.
 
Juko clapped his hands together, then pulled them out into a bow shape. "I'm all for it."
 
Angie raised her pike and set her shield into position. "This won't be like how we used to spar," she said.
 
"Nothing held back," Juko said.
 
"Winner take all," said Angie.
 
And so they fought. Young as she was, Angie was already beginning to develop a reputation as a great fighter, but Juko was surrounded by his element-- the renowned stone of the Kronstrang Mountains, fresh and at home. Angie found her initial charge stymied by stone barriers that popped out of the walls-- large but flat, more hurdles than anything. He was testing her. The nerve, she thought. Trying to see if he could get away with less than one hundred percent! But all of a sudden there were more than just obstacles. A spire burst out of the wall like a quintuple-sized spearhead. By reflex, she put her shield between it and herself. Her body rocked with the force of the impact, but she held her footing.
 
"Wow. That's a hell of a shield," said Juko. His arm was across his chest, pointed off to the side like a conductor stopped in mid-performance.
 
"Got a centaur to make it for me," said Angie. She promptly resumed her attack, taking advantage of the pause to close the distance. Juko had certainly gotten more athletic since their youth. He danced just out of reach, her spearhead falling just short of him with every thrust.
 
And so it continued, Angie almost but not quite reaching Juko as he counterattacked with the surrounding the rock. Eventually, though, they ran out of tunnel. The mineshaft opened into a larger connecting chamber, one that split off into connecting passages in every direction. As they stepped into the center of the room, Juko made an extravagant gesture-- Angie knew he was getting desperate, his form was slipping-- so was hers-- and with that motion, as if he were pulling an invisible rope hanging from the ceiling, he caused a giant stalactite to crash down into the floor from above, forcing Angie to take a step back as it came down. There was a sudden groan of rock against rock. Both fighters made the mistake of looking toward it; it was coming from above them. There was a horrible lurching CRACK as if the sky itself were splitting. Angie and Juko exchanged glances around the stalactite. Juko whirled on his heels and fled. Angie, taking her cue from him, turned around and ran back through the passage they'd come from, ducking the spires and vaulting the rearranged walls of stone from before. She knew better than to stop and look back; it sounded like the whole cave was collapsing, though really it was only that one room. However, she was exhausted and she knew that Juko was as well. She knew exactly what he was going to do: it was the same thing she was going to do. She was going to get out of the cave as soon as possible and try not to run into him again. This match was a draw.
 
---
 
Another year passed and the world continued to change. In the Tupitupi Jungle, near the world's equator, the cat-people who lived there discovered the ruins of an ancient temple, spoken of in legend but long lost. The temple, and the treasure said to be stored there, were thought of as myths. But now there could be no doubt: the temple was real, and presumably it still contained the mountains of gold that the ancients had put there. Regardless of what lay at its heart, the temple was certainly full to bursting with something else: monsters of all kinds, whose long imprisonment had left only the strongest and nastiest types alive. Word spread of the temple's prize and its ravenous guardians, and adventurers from all over converged on it. Naturally, Angie and Juko were among them.
 
The temple was colossal: it descended into the earth the height of a skyscraper and was as wide and long as a small city. Dozens of search parties explored its every nook and cranny. Dozens more never returned. Slowly, as the various glory-hounds put aside their differences, maps of the temple began to circulate. More and more of the temple was documented until it was certain: there was nothing left to uncover. And no trace of the treasure! Maybe it had never existed. Maybe it had simply been gathered up by monsters and spread throughout the world. The world's adventurers gave a collective shrug. So it went.
 
Just as with the dwarfs, Angie and Juko were the last to leave. Fearing no monster, they had each seen the deepest corners of the temple, had combed it for any sign of another hidden passage, another deeper level. But those they had traveled with eventually tired of the temple and departed for their homelands. So Angie resolved to go to the temple alone and give it one last exploration. On her way there through the jungle, she heard something making its way through the overgrowth.
 
"Who's there?" she called out, readying her shield and spear. She heard the rustling stop for a moment, then begin approaching her. She took a few steps back, away from the patch of vines that whoever it was would have to come through.
 
A pair of hands, clasped together as if in prayer, forced through the vines and pushed them in masses to either side. It was a man in green robes, embroidered with runic symbols in brown and silver. It was Juko.
 
"I'd recognize that crowing anywhere! Angie!" he said.
 
"You could use a haircut," Angie said.
 
Juko flipped the ragged mass, now hanging down to his shoulderblades. "Who has time for that when there's glory and wealth to be had?"
 
"I'd accept that if there actually were anything worth having down there," said Angie.
 
"Yeah, the whole temple's a bust. Figures. You'd think those old cats could've left us something," said Juko. "It makes a perverse kind of sense, though. That's the kind of dumb stunt they'd pull."
 
"Well, it's not a total loss," Angie said.
 
"Yeah," said Juko, flipping his hair again. "Had a lot of fun, at least."
 
"That's not what I was talking about," Angie said. She crouched into a fighting stance.
 
"About that time of the year, isn't it?" Juko remarked. He held up his hands like a wrestler. "Come on, then. Let's see what's strongest."
 
Angie knew that she was at a disadvantage here. The sweltering jungle was no place for someone in heavy armor. But then, Juko was at a disadvantage as well. Mud is less threatening than stone, and all the plants' roots would keep him from drawing up much earth to work with. But as she approached, careful to keep her pike from catching on a tree, she saw Juko extend his hand toward her. All of a sudden she felt as though someone had dropped an elephant on her. She staggered under the blow, but quickly recovered and quickly resumed the charge. Her resolve took Juko by surprise, and he only just barely avoided a thrust that skewered the tree behind him. Already Angie had pulled her pike out and was swinging it overhead with both hands. There was no time to sidestep; desperately Juko thrust his palm out at her again. Angie felt her knees buckle under the invisible weight. Her eyes swam. It was some kind of gravity magic, using her own weight against her. She couldn't hold the pike aloft; it fell to the ground as he dropped to one knee. Juko was winding up for another attack. Trusting her instincts, Angie simply thrust out with the pike. Juko, slightly overconfident as always, didn't quite sidestep enough. His robe tore at the waist and stained with a trickle of blood.
 
He gasped, looking from the wound to Angie, who was reeling back for another attack. "You hit me!" he shouted, indignant. Angie was prepared to strike. Juko raised his hands high above his chest and brought them crashing down. If the first attack had been an elephant, this new one felt like having the entire ancient temple fall on her. For yards around them, leaves flattened and dust radiated outward. She shuddered momentarily, and for a moment she had the sensation of falling before everything went dark. Angie's armored form clanked as she fell unconscious, her head lying at Juko's feet.
 
Juko panted. He had put everything into that last spell. If she had withstood it, he would have been defenseless. But she hadn't. He'd won.
 
At that point, a branch that had been broken off by the gravity smash finished falling and struck Juko on the head. For a moment he wondered what had happened, and then his vision turned black. Juko slumped forward, landing against Angie's armor and sliding to the ground next to her.
 
---
 
Angie slowly regained consciousness. She was lying on her side and sore all over but, self-evidently, alive. She quickly discovered that she couldn't see, though. Something wet, fleshy, and pulsating pressed up against her back, and she felt it right against her skin. It didn't take long to figure out exactly where she was: she was in something's stomach! She squirmed in a momentary panic, and found herself bumping into something less yielding than the squishy wall behind her. In the darkness, she couldn't make out exactly what it was, but it was human-shaped and definitely male.
 
The first thing Juko noticed was the splitting pain down the back of his head. Shortly thereafter, he discovered (thanks to trying and failing to rub the afflicted area with a hand) that he had very little mobility and that he wasn't alone. Behind him, he could feel the squirming flesh of a stomach working on digesting him, and pressed into his front was a human body-- female, judging by certain telltale contours. With his most recent memories coming back to him, he took a guess as to who it was.
 
"Angie?" he said.
 
"Juko!"
 
"Hi," Juko said. There was a moment's silence. Very few people are effectively socialized to initiate a conversation while naked in a churning, gurgling stomach.
 
"What are we going to do?" said Angie, sensing the stomach's work becoming more insistent. It was mostly in her imagination.
 
Juko's voice was much calmer than hers as he responded, "Figure out what happened, for starters." Angie was silent. Juko continued, "Okay, first I knocked you out. Then I got knocked out."
 
"How did that happen?" said Angie, honestly confused.
 
"Tree branch," said Juko, adding a sheepish laugh in hopes of deflecting some of the embarrassment. "So that left us both unconscious."
 
"In the middle of the jungle," Angie added.
 
"Where any predator who pleased could snatch us up," Juko concluded.
 
"And now we're being digested," Angie said, her voice wavering.
 
"Well, yeah," said Juko. "You've never been swallowed?"
 
"Not once!" Angie said, her confidence slightly restored. At least she could hold that over him. Not that it would matter for long, she realized. "What are we going to do?"
 
"Figure out what ate us, for one thing," said Juko.
 
"Why would that matter?" As if to accentuate the point, a low, whining gurgle came from somewhere beyond her feet and the stomach muscles pressed in on them harder than before.
 
"See if we can get out, of course," Juko replied. "It can fit both of us completely stretched out, so we know it belongs to a snake-type. And, I don't know if you've noticed, but we're... undulating, I guess?"
 
Angie hadn't noticed until then, but it was true. Besides the ever-present squeezing from all around them, the entire chamber was slowly twisting and turning, taking their bodies with it.
 
Juko continued. "So it's moving. Now, if it's a naga, we're screwed. They know everything a knight or a warlock could do to get out, and at full strength they'll make sure we don't."
 
"So how do we tell if it's a naga?" said Angie.
 
"Like this," said Juko. "HEY OUT THERE! ARE YOU A NAGA?" Juko felt Angie cringe against him. A little warning might have been called for, but this wasn't exactly the time for pleasantries.
 
Silence. Well, if you neglected the chaotic squish, squish-squish, squish.
 
"Okay. So we're probably dealing with a python," said Juko. "We can get out, maybe."
 
"Maybe?"
 
"Nothing's certain," said Juko. "Just give me a moment to concentrate, okay? Relax."
 
Angie tried to calm herself, but she'd never heard of anyone escaping from a stomach on their own. Unconsciously, she put her arms around Juko.
 
"Angie? That's not relaxing, and that is not helping me concentrate."
 
"S-sorry," she stammered, and pressed her hands against her thighs. She focused on just taking one breath at a time. In and out. In an out. In. Out. In. Out. Idly, she noticed that Juko was breathing with the same rhythm. In at the same time, out at the same time. She was being digested, but she wasn't alone, she thought.
 
Suddenly, Juko tensed. There was a loud WHUMP from somewhere above her head. She felt an immense pressure from all around as the stomach crushed inward, and the entire chamber jerked wildly before going still. Unnervingly still.
 
"Stunned it," Juko said, sounding relieved. "Now we--" she felt him shifting, pulling his arms up to head-level. She felt the muscles in his arms tense against her, and then he winced and breathed an annoyed sigh. "Angie? I need you to do something."
 
"Okay," she said.
 
"Get your hands up here," said Juko. Struggling against the tightness of the stomach, she raised her arms up. "Pull this open, this thing I'm holding on to," Juko said. Angie traced his arms from the elbows to the base of his fingers. His fingers were lodged in a ring of muscles-- the gateway to the stomach, she realized. Wounded as he was, Juko didn't have the strength to force it. Summoning all the force she could muster, Angie pried the ring open as far as she could. Juko pressed more and more of his arms through, then the rest of himself, inch by inch. She felt his feet pass by her hands, then relaxed involuntarily. The aperture closed up.
 
Angie had a horrifying thought. What if he left her here until the snake woke up? There was nothing keeping him there, no reason for him to make sure she was safe. "Juko!" she yelled through the stomach walls. Her pride stopped her from yelling, "Help!" She tried to find the sphincter again, but couldn't locate it. With one less body in the stomach, the whole thing stretched more, making it hard to find the part of the walls that she wanted. It had only been a few moments, but it felt like hours. But just before she well and truly started to panic, she felt something poke her in the head. She grabbed at it. It was a finger. She took hold of it, and found that it was surrounded by the opening to the stomach. She pried it open again, desperation lending her a measure of skill, and grasped at Juko's wrist. He pulled at her arm, and with a little extra pressure against the sphincter, she began to slide through it, up and out to freedom. Regaining her composure, Angie started to shimmy her way up on her own, Juko helping the entire way.
 
The world returned to her in a flash. She emerged from the snake's throat bit by bit-- head, then shoulders, chest, waist, legs, and feet. Juko helped her to stand.
 
"Well, that's that," Juko said. "You okay?"
 
Angie nodded.
 
Juko sighed. "I hate to say it, but... let's stick together for now. We're in no condition to defend ourselves alone."
 
"I agree," Angie said slowly. The reality of the situation was only just now dawning on her. Their equipment was lost, and their clothing had been digested right off their bodies, as evidenced by Juko's naked form in front of her. A thought flitted across her mind unbidden: he was really cute. Even despite, perhaps because of, the remnants of the gunk they'd just been bathed in.
 
Juko's eyes suddenly darted in her direction. "Like what you see?" he said flatly.
 
Angie turned away, mortified. "I-I was just taking n-notes for our next duel!"
 
"You always stammer when you lie," Juko remarked, smiling. "And let's just make sure there IS a next duel. Might want to start by not being next to that thing when it comes to," he said, pointing to the emerald-green python they'd just pried themselves out of.
 
"Right," said Angie. "We don't know how far it carried us while it was--" She tripped over the concept. "So we can't be sure where we are right now."
 
"Well, we're not totally lost," said Juko. "It can only have gone so far."
 
Angie nodded. "That's right." She thought for a moment. "Northwest?" The general direction of the cat-people's village.
 
"Precisely," said Juko.
 
Using a few wilderness-survival tricks that they had picked up in their travels, Angie and Juko improvised a bandage for his injury and made their way roughly northwest, putting as much distance between themselves and their mutual brush with mortality as they could. A few of the jungle's more vigorous creatures were tempted into attack by the humans' bare flesh, but what rest the two had managed to procure prepared them adequately. Juko, as a warlock, was never unarmed, and Angie fell back on her most traditional fighting style of finding a good stick and improvising. Nothing could defeat them, nothing but each other.
 
Fortunately, they had more than a mere direction to guide them. Thanks to their taste for fish, the cat-people of the Tupitupi had settled only a little ways inland from the sea, at the mouth of a river that spanned half the continent. Angie and Juko weren't trying to find a village in the middle of the jungle; they had only to find the coast, then travel along it until they found the river. After the trial that was the jungle, a long walk on the beach was practically a vacation. They were especially happy to have a way of getting the now-dried digestive slime off of themselves. Other hygiene issues be damned, it was a blessing to let the ocean take that stuff away from them. They had that much in common, at least.
 
Their entrance into the village of Laelae was somewhat tense. Almost everything in the world that wasn't human would have been happy to swallow one whole, especially two muscular, beautiful, bare subjects as themselves. Angie and Juko saw countless eyes watching them hungrily, but kept the situation under control by walking with absolute confidence. Yes, they were humans. Yes, they were exposed to the world. Yes, they were tasty-looking. But they were on a mission, and anyone who kept them from where they were going was going would have been disrupting something terribly important. "Where they were going" turned out to be the local warrior's guild office, to explain what had happened and plead for supplies. A guild member was a guild member, no matter what they were or where they were from, and Angie and Juko certainly had the evidence to back their claim, even if that evidence was a conspicuous lack of certain things. They were clothed, equipped, fed, and lodged in short order, at no cost. After thanking the local masters for their hospitality by helping train the apprentices for some time, Angie and Juko went their separate ways once more, though with just the slightest pang of regret in their hearts.
 
---
 
About three months later, Angie received a letter. It was delivered to her by an elven courier of the type commonly employed by the warrior's guild-- sly folk who could be trusted to reach their goal regardless of the circumstances. It was a simple message, written out in formal lettering on only as much parchment as was necessary to contain the writing: little more than a postcard. It said:
 
"Let's get our answer. Meet me at Talnattaran on the day."
 
Angie quickly filled in all the blanks in the message. Juko had sent it, the answer was which style was stronger, and "the day" was the day of their annual duels. She smiled, folded the card up and placed it in one of her travel bags, and set to work. From that point on, she pressed the limits of her capabilities. She traveled the world, seeking the advice of all the great masters of fighting. She learned a number of techniques from the centaurs, whose collective skill with the lance was known and feared all over. She returned to the Kronstrangs and commissioned a new suit of armor from the most skilled dwarven smith she could find. When the armor was finished, she took it to the forest of the elves (a quest in and of itself) and had an enchantress inscribe it with warding runes. All preparations complete, she made her way back home, and waited.
 
At last the day arrived. The anniversary of the day they had first challenged one another. Angie had spent the past week in Talnattaran, the town that had been the entire world to her as a child. Now she saw it for what it was: a small, rural burg of no real significance. But it was still home. Talnattaran was the same as ever; it was she who had grown. She and Juko both.
 
Juko, as usual, strolled into the old warrior's guild branch on the evening before the event. He had replaced the coveralls the cat-people had given him with new robes: emerald green satin, with the image of a snake embroidered onto the chest in silver, all wrapped up in a blood red traveler's cloak. On seeing the symbol on the front of his new attire, Angie gave him an accommodating grin.
 
"Cute," she said, looking up from the soup the guild had served for dinner and pointing at his chest.
 
"It felt appropriate," Juko replied. "I hope you're prepared for tomorrow."
 
"I have been for a while," said Angie.
 
"Get any more practice getting swallowed?" Juko said, grinning.
 
"None whatsoever," Angie said, returning the smug expression.
 
Juko tched. "Too bad, you might need it."
 
"We'll see," said Angie, and that was that. Juko wandered off to find a place to put his possessions and get some of the soup. The two did not speak again that night.
 
The next day, at noon, the two met at the guild entrance, dressed for battle. With their track record, they didn't want their final clash taking place anywhere near their beloved hometown. Wordlessly, they made their way into the grassy fields. It was a beautiful day, with only enough clouds to point out how few there really were, and a light breeze that carried the smell of field flowers across the plains. Streaks of green rippled over the ground as the grass waved in the wind. It was, in short, absolutely the wrong weather for a showdown.
 
"Here, I think," said Angie. There was not a sign of life in sight.
 
"Works for me," Juko responded. He stretched his arms. Bending down to stretch out his legs, he said, "Any regrets?"
 
Angie adjusted her breastplate. The shining steel plate-mail glinted in the sunlight. "None," she said. "And you?"
 
"Same," said Juko. He untied his cloak and tossed it to the wind, which was happy to catch it and roll it away. Juko dropped into a stance that Angie recognized. "Ready?" he said.
 
Angie lowered her helmet's visor and leveled her pike with the ground. "Aye," she said.
 
Juko made the first move. With a smirk, he extended his hand toward Angie. She watched for the attack, and seeing none, she braced for the impact. Just as she expected, she felt a wave of pure force slam into her from the front.
 
"That old trick won't work this time!" she boasted. It was true: her armor was specifically designed to negate that style of magic.
 
Juko laughed. "If you can feel anything, then I've already won." He stood up and snapped his fingers. "Because that's not the same old trick."
 
Angie squinted at him through her visor. Her momentary confusion turned into surprise as the force changed. It wasn't just a wall-- not a bludgeon. It was coming from all around her, she realized, pressing inward. And it wasn't stopping. In fact, it was getting stronger every moment. With a start, Angie realized that she couldn't move. The compression stopped her from making even the slightest motion with any part of her body. And it was building, and building, and building. Was that it, she thought. All that work, just to get popped like a grape?
 
Suddenly, she felt something within her give, as though a latch had come undone. The crushing pain evaporated in an instant. It was replaced by a totally different, bizarre sensation: Angie felt her armor receding from her. It was growing outward in every direction. Angie felt her arms pop out of its sleeves, her head fell through its neck. For a moment she felt like she was riding the joint where the legs met, and then there was a cacophonous metallic roar all around her and she lost her bearings. When everything had gone quiet, Angie opened her eyes and tried to get a handle on the situation.
 
Below her, she could feel a thin layer of cloth, laying atop something warm and solid. On top of her, there was another tract of the same cloth. Light was streaming through it-- it was pink. Angie's head swam. It couldn't possibly be--
 
The cloth below her suddenly moved, carrying her with it. It flipped up at an angle, dropping her to the bottom where the two cloth parts met. Sunlight struck her from above. With a momentary struggle, she was on her feet. She looked up.
 
Juko looked down at her, ten times his normal size. He grinned facetiously, trying to hold back laughter. "I would not have guessed pink."
 
Angie worked out the truth of the situation. Her armor hadn't grown away from her-- she had shrunk! Which would mean that she was currently standing in her own underwear. Hence the comment about the color pink. She blushed furiously. With warning, one of Juko's two giant hands reached for her. Nothing in all her experiences had taught her how to dodge a massive human hand, so she was easily captured and lifted up to eye level with Juko. But he didn't keep her tightly bound; he laid his palm open, forming a chair of sorts with his fingers. She was just about the length of his hand, beginning just below the end of his middle finger and not quite reaching to the end of his palm. That she was naked was something she barely noticed. The situation was simply too surreal for her to care, and her body was nothing new to Juko.
 
"How's it feel at that size?" Juko said softly. He had to, given how small the person he was talking to was.
 
"It's... it's strange, but... not different, I guess?" Angie said.
 
"Good. That's about how it should feel," Juko said. "I suppose I owe you a bit of an explanation. You know the nagas up in Issandrar?" Angie nodded. "Well, they have a caste called the medusae. I'm sure you've heard of them." Angie nodded again. "They're known for petrification magic, but they also practice quite a bit of earth magic, you see. It cost me a small fortune, but I convinced one of them to teach me that shrinking spell. It's in the same realm, you see. Not quite the same, but close enough for me to do it. And that's why you're where you are right now." He smiled.
 
"But... my armor was protected against earth magic!" Angie pleaded.
 
"And it was absolutely not affected by the spell in the slightest," Juko said matter-of-factly.
 
"I guess we have our answer, then," said Angie. "I guess magic really is stronger than might." There was a bittersweetness in her tone.
 
Juko caught it. "Ah, I wouldn't say that," he said. Angie cocked her head at him. "How much did you pay for that armor?"
 
"Twenty thousand," Angie said.
 
"Well, there you have it. I paid thirty thousand for that spell. So it isn't might or magic that's the strongest-- it's money." He chuckled.
 
Angie was taken by surprise as his hand rocked. She grabbed at Juko's skin to steady herself, which stung enough to get him to stop. There was a pause. "So... what happens now?" Angie said.
 
"Nothing held back," said Juko. "I'm going to eat you." He watched for her response.
 
One might expect Angie to look horrified at that proclamation, but she only looked disappointed, and even then just for a moment. Then her discipline won out. This was the way of the world, and she had come out here knowing that it might happen. Not quite like this, but the possibility was always there. She took a deep breath. "Okay," Angie said. She looked up, into Juko's eyes. Maybe it was just how large they were, but she could see a friendliness in them now that she had never seen before. It made her heart flutter-- or was that just the anticipation of what was going to happen next?
 
She felt his hand moving, taking her with it toward his mouth. His lips parted, giving her a full view of his tongue, the throat she'd soon be traveling down, and his teeth. Thinking of this last item gave her pause-- would he bite her? But she was only frightened momentarily. He wouldn't, she knew he wouldn't. His tongue moved forward slightly, glistening with his saliva, to accept her. Angie shifted on Juko's hand, down his palm. She felt a tremor as her feet made contact with Juko's tongue, feeling the wet, bumpy surface rub against her soles. Juko pushed her further onto it, and the slimy sensation rose up her calves and over her butt. Angie tried to help, but there was nothing she could do to move herself; she was completely under Juko's power. All of a sudden she felt his upper lip pressing down on her, pinning her at the belly-button. Her top half hung from his mouth, supported by his fingertips.
 
Angie felt Juko's tongue shift under her. It pressed her up against his palette, forming a tunnel. She felt pressure building on her bottom half, tugging at the skin and tickling her more sensitive parts. She gasped, but only in surprise. It felt good, so, so good. Then, the weight of Juko's lip eased and she felt him pressing inward on her back with his fingertips. Slowly, the rest of her began to slide into him. Angie had to remind herself to exhale as the tip of his tongue made its way up her spine, she was so focused on the sensation of it. And then his lips closed over her head. A little more suction, and what little of her hair remained to be pulled in tickled Juko's lips as it joined Angie inside.
 
It was dark, and wet, and squishy, Angie thought. Just like it was in the python. But there was something different about this. But, she thought, if she stopped to figure out what it was, she might miss the whole thing. Juko's tongue was twitching, the way tongues are prone to do when someone holds food in their mouth. He was waiting, Angie realized. Briefly, she wondered what she tasted like. It would forever be a mystery to her, she concluded, and just focused on the experience of being eaten. The muscle below her was rolling unpredictably, first one part of it raising up, then another, gently tossing her body from side to side. Wet patches were falling on her from above, splattering on random parts of her body. It was dirty, but oh so satisfying.
 
Angie had an idea. Now that she was completely inside Juko's mouth, she had a bit more freedom. She decided to try to turn over. It was a matter of getting her arm beneath herself and pushing-- a simple task, but not easy. Every time she tried, her arm would slip, or the tongue would twitch, and she'd fall off her balance and get treated once again to the feeling of her whole backside being moistened and massaged by that wall of muscle. But eventually she managed it, first getting up on her side, then ensuring that when next she fell, she fell on her front. Oh, before it was bliss, now it was heaven! Juko's tongue continued to roll-- she wondered for a moment how long he would hold her on it-- pressing up against her belly, and her face, and her chest, and between her legs. Lost in the moment, Angie decided that now was not the time for propriety, and ground her hips against the tongue, delighting in the rough wetness of it as much as her body was able. Her breath came in pants, she felt warmth spreading all within herself to match the heat coming from outside.
 
Then, something changed. The tongue began to rise up and pull backward. Angie shuddered with the realization that she was about to be swallowed. Drenched as she was with Juko's saliva, there was no way to keep from sliding down even if she wanted to. Angie's feet funneled into a tight, narrow knot of flesh-- the start of his throat-- and her descent stopped. But only for an instant: just as she regained her bearings, the muscle gave way beneath her and she sank into it up to her knees. It's really happening, Angie thought. He's really swallowing me! No sooner had that thought passed than she felt a pull at her heels. The throat muscles had a hold of her, and were pulling her down. In front of her, the back of Juko's tongue pressed her upward, aligning her with the throat. Warm, gooey tightness surged up her legs, stopping just below the junction of her legs. It was torture, to have satisfaction so near and yet so resolutely denied. The throat pinned her; wiggle her thighs as she might, she could go nowhere until Juko swallowed again. And swallow he did: sweet relief came as yet again Angie was pressed back and down. In a single gulp, she fell into the esophagus all the way up to her ribs. All the way from her belly to her toes, Angie could feel the muscles writhing against her, pressing inward, trying to take the rest of her down. Angie, in turn, ground herself against them, making whatever small effort she could to aid her own consumption.
 
Angie felt the pressure around her increase. Juko was swallowing again! The aperture to Juko's throat tickled Angie's nipples as it rode over her breasts and up her back. For a moment she thought that was it, that she would start falling toward the stomach. But the throat balked at her shoulders, lapping at them but not subsuming them. Her arms were above her head, and in that position she was far wider. Angie flexed, trying to push herself upward, trying to prolong the experience as much as possible. The throat continued its insistent, rhythmic tugging, kneading her all over, trying to squeeze her into being just the tiniest bit smaller so she would fit through. Then, all too soon Angie felt the familiar tension around her body, building to an irresistible crescendo. A wave of flesh crashed over her as she was yanked downward.
 
As her arms slipped down into that slick tube of flesh, Angie felt two conflicting sensations. Her legs, below her, met hardly any resistance. It felt like she was simply sliding through, a slippery weight carried down by its own gravity. But above her, across her chest and down her arms, she was being squeezed so hard that she slid away from it. For several seconds this blissful journey continued, until Angie felt her feet come to a stop. She'd hit the entrance to the stomach. The muscles above her continued to press and squeeze, and for a moment Angie thought she might be crushed between the wave and the sphincter. Suddenly that lower ring of flesh offered no more resistance, and it hugged Angie's body, bit by bit, as the peristalsis squished her through it.
 
Angie dropped into Juko's stomach. For a moment she followed the curve of the walls, then came to rest. She pulled her arms down to her sides for comfort. She still couldn't see, but feeling was enough. Wet, slimy, rippled flesh churned all around her. The stretchy sac had already conformed to her shape. It covered over her face, rode the curve of her butt, pressed in on the swell and dip of her chest, and wrapped all around her waist. Every part of her was massaged and kneaded all at once. She could feel a new liquid running over her, supplanting the saliva. It was thicker, squelchier, and it was coming from everywhere. She flexed her toes and heard it squish between them. Juko's stomach was wasting no time; it was already covering her in acid. As a low gurgle from below filled the chamber and the walls began to churn faster and harder, the gravity of the situation truly began to sink in. She was being digested. She was being melted down, turning into liquid nutrition for Juko's intestines to absorb. His body was changing her body into his body.
 
And she was at peace with that. Juko had defeated her fairly. It was the law of the world that the victor would consume the vanquished. So this was to be expected. And there was no-one, in all the world, to whom she would rather give her body and herself. Only now did Angie realize it, but she loved Juko. And he loved her too-- she had seen it in his eyes. If this was all the expression of that love that the world would afford them, so be it. Surrounded by Juko's churning, gurgling stomach, feeling the tingling, pins-and-needles stinging on her skin as she began to come apart, listening to the thudding rhythm of the heartbeat that she would soon be a part of, Angie was content. There was nowhere she would rather be. Gently folding a hand over the place where her legs met, she began to rub, giving her body a delightful farewell.
 
---
 
Juko considered Angie's armor. One option was simply to leave it, but it was very fine armor, and a shame to waste it. Besides, he wanted a memento of this day, and the vacated armor of his greatest rival would certainly suffice. So he resolved to take it with him. For anyone else, especially someone with his build, trying to carry that much steel would have been impossible. As someone with power over the earth, though, the task was simple. With no more than a wave of Juko's hand, the pieces lifted off the ground and encircled him. Then, Juko set off for the warrior's guild at Talnattaran, carrying his two prizes with him: one swirling around him, and the other in his belly.
 
***
 
 
AUTHOR'S COMMENTS:
 
Goodness, 466 views** at the time of this writing. And the view-count kept going up weeks after the first posting. And even when you take into account that I probably count for about 30 or 40 of those what with revisions and edits, that's still a lot. Looks like I've got some repeat viewers! Hello out there, whoever you people are!
 
It's not obvious from what information I provided, but this story takes place in a world somewhat akin to Duamutef's narrative universe, Ishiara-- with a few clear and visible differences which anyone with a passing knowledge of Ishiara ought to be able to identify immediately. For those who nevertheless don't have a passing knowledge of Ishiara, the relevant similarity is that people expect to die by getting eaten alive-- it's pretty much inevitable at some point in your life (probably the end point)-- hence why Angie isn't totally flabbergasted at Juko deciding to eat her at the end. The relevant difference is that Ishiara has no men.
 
I plan to eventually write a roguelike set in this world. But that is very far in the future, when I'm not awash in other work.
 
This story is strong evidence that I was right to remove that long-ass introduction post that detailed everything I will and will not write. One of my big "will nots" showed up here thanks to the macro/micro situation. That's life...
 
"Laelae" is pronounced "lah-ee-lah-ee". Four syllables.
 
There are some unfortunate implications in this story, especially when you consider that it depicts a powerful male figure dominating a female figure through violence. But, consider the following: Angie is a top-class fighter herself, not your 50's-era housewife, and the duels she and Juko had were all consented to by both parties. Plus, this is more Final Fantasy than Dungeons and Dragons-- my intent was for it to be more cartoonish than gritty and realistic.
 
The creative process for this story started with the M/F thread, where lamentations arose that there isn't enough M/F material available. I hate to see any demographic of vorarephile go hungry*, and I just so happened to have another work-in-progress that was stalling out (an F/F story which I may complete at a later date). So I shifted my two M/F story ideas up the queue. But, as it turned out, neither of them was quite in line with the tastes of the person I was writing this for (most directly), so I didn't quite have an idea. In trying to come up with a premise for a macro/micro story, I remembered something I'd written into the design document for the aforementioned roguelike-- a shrinking spell that makes enemies much easier to swallow and digest. This story practically wrote itself after that, starting with the idea of a fighter and a mage having a duel which ends with the fighter getting shrunken. Then, because I can't abide by a lack of context, I came up with the history of these two characters, Angie and Juko, to explain why they were fighting to the death. After that, I managed to get the whole thing written in a little over half a week-- I started last Tuesday. This, after being totally unable to invest myself in that F/F story. The muse is a fickle mistress!
 
My goals here (which nicely intersected with the tastes of the person this story was written for/directed toward) were to emphasize the relationship between the two main actors ("In Due Time" failed utterly in this sense) and dial back the explicit sexuality. Given how the story ends, I might have fallen short of the mark there, but I did go out of my way to use euphemisms where I could have been more precise.
 
Thanks for reading!
 
* Oh ho ho, I am hilarious.
 
** On my writing thread.