Fiona straightened her hair for the third time, her face twisting in disgust as her wavy tangles refused to go straight. She put up her hands in exasperation, looking at the reflection in the washroom mirror. "My hair wants me to look like I don't know how to use a comb, Doug, it's like magic. This hair does not respond to my need to be fashionable. I also need to not look like a wildling."

She heard a huff from the other room, a clink of mugs, then the sound of something metallic being set on the stove. "Have you ever considered it's a very 'you' look, and that you should stick with it?"

"No! I was able to manage my hair quite well back on Earth! It was straight, able to be shaped and molded to my beck and call! My one good feature, apart from killing half a demon army on my last stand!" She let out a groan and pushed one lock aside, and tucked the rest behind her ears. She left the washroom less than satisfied and smoothed over her comfy sweatshirt. "Anyway, thanks for being here. You know. In case Lani is being puppeted by someone. I put it at a million-to-one odds, though."

Doug glanced at her skeptically. "I said it before, and Darla said it, too. Those contracts are dangerous. You might think you're free of them, but you're not. They always bake in a loophole somewhere."

"Oh, I know. I checked for them in here." Fiona showed the papers and pointed to one line. "Section six, on discontinuation of services prematurely, an amount not to exceed twenty percent of all earnings in all future employment, for a period not less than six years from execution of section five, buyouts for premature termination of services, shall be rendered to the client on the first of each month. Lani amended it to cover specifically future earnings--in Vale only. So as long as she doesn't make a single copper in Vale, she's set. I swear it didn't say this before. These guys are dicks. Are they using invisible ink?"

"I wouldn't put it past them," Doug muttered. "Things like this make me regret doing any business in Vale before the recent events. Now, cream and sugar?"

"Sugar, yes, but milk instead of creamer." She'd pored over the paper, on account of Lani leaving it with them as a gesture of good faith. "Doug, suppose I were the reincarnation of Feo'thari. Not that I want to be, because, holy shit, I am not exactly the most responsible transmigrated elf in the universe. Or, maybe Wingding gets the power, but I get to shape it? What would you do?"

"Question my life choices very carefully." He handed her a mug of steaming hot coffee a few minutes later, while they waited for Lani. He took a sip and let out a contented sound, with steam curling from his snout. He then settled in the armchair, considering the possibility based on the way he glanced at her in curiosity.

"Well?"

He set his coffee down and folded his claws together. "Suppose you were. You have enemies. One other god tried to kill you already–or Wingding, as may be the case. Despite your best efforts, the pantheon fell apart, and most of the gods fend for themselves. And, gods and goddesses charge around, trying to bring enlightenment and joy to the world. They have a greater likelihood of bringing down a meteor impact and obliterating land values, instead."

Fiona let out a bitter laugh in response. "Yeah. My tendencies lean toward smashing things and increasing the entropy value of the universe. I'd be a terrible goddess if this were the case. Wingding, pay attention! We're trying to prepare you early for your formative years!"

[OMG. Please stop. You're embarrassing me.]

Doug let out a barking laugh when he picked up the message. "Hah! The only thing that puts Fiona in her place is her heart on her sleeve. Oh, this is rich. Now be nice to mommy, Wingding–"

Doug froze as the words left his snout, and his eyes exuded terror as Fiona leered at him. "What's that, Doug? Did you call me 'mommy'?" she asked in a voice as chilly as the grave.

"To be fair, you were a mother to a stray phase cat already." His voice was rapid and high-pitched, attempting to recover. She was tempted to put him further on the spot, but a knock on the door interrupted them both.

"Miss Swiftheart, it's me." Fiona heard the unmistakable, soft-spoken voice of Lani through the door. Fiona skipped over to the door, where the snow-covered avian shivered, her wings almost coated in ice. "S-sorry, it's a little bit cold outside. I was delayed a bit."

"Oh, I know, when it snows in Fiefdala, it snows," she answered as she guided her inside. "Goodness, is this the first time you've seen snowfall? I know it's a touch warmer in Vale, so I wasn't sure."

"I've seen snowfall during colder winters in Vale. But it is not common." The poor woman took her jacket off and huddled by the seat closest to the fireplace, going strong, thanks to Doug's expert incendiary skills. She put her hands to the fire and let out a trill of delight. "Oh, this is much better, thank you, Miss Swiftheart."

"You can call me Fiona. No need for formalities," she assured her. Doug handed her the extra cup of coffee she'd prepared. Lani took it graciously. "Lani, I gotta say, seeing you here in Fiefdala? You didn't come all this way to thank me. I left that gold stash in my room with that note so that you'd get out clean."

"I wouldn't call what I went through a 'clean' getaway," she said with a hoot of disgust. "You read the contract?"

Fiona glanced at it, still on the table. "Yeah. All of it. You weren't kidding, it's awful. Are they all like this?"

"Or worse," Lani replied unhappily and stood uneasily by the fireplace. "Do you mind if I, um…"

"Oh! Take a seat, we finished work at the shop about an hour or so ago," Fiona said, waving her to the couch where Lani ruffled her feathers before sitting down. She shivered softly until she'd taken a few sips of coffee.

"Thank you. And, thank you for inviting me to your home. It's lovely. I like the decoration you've done in here," she commented, her eyes glancing at the few paintings, and Fiona's mountings of a few of her older weapons from her time in the guild.

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"It took a little while. When I was adventuring, the place was mostly just somewhere to rest my head when I wasn't at the guild." Fiona noted the poor girl kept looking around anxiously. Looking for the master's hovering over her shoulder, maybe?

She wouldn't blame her for being paranoid. Fiona was still tempted to bulldoze Vale into a pile of rubble for what they were capable of. And that burning fury felt like it belonged in her heart. "Lani…why did you come here? You could have gone anywhere."

"I…" she trailed off, head held low as she rubbed at her still-splinted fingers. "I didn't know where else to go. You've shown kindness to people in a place devoid of it. They already whispered about you defeating Varith."

"What about family?" Fiona asked.

"If I stayed," Lani said quietly, "It would have been just a matter of time before someone could enforce a contract on me, or leave me little choice of terms to keep a roof over my head or the promise of a meal. And the roof I had wasn't the greatest, let's say."

Fiona suspected that she was choosing her words very carefully. "Lani," she said after giving a glance at Doug, then back to the avian, "How did you end up on that contract in the first place? I'm not familiar with how Varith did what he did."

"My family put me on it. For safety's sake. They argued it was better to owe someone who wouldn't cheat on the contracts."

Fiona clenched her fingers tightly. "So I guess I won't be offering them any praise, huh?"

"No." Lani's composure seemed to be returning. "Varith was the wrong solution to the right problem. Rumors were that he was a slave who broke free and had immensely unstable powers. Rage drove him. Rage and fervor at the very institution. But when it's so far ingrained in a country…how do you uproot it?"

"An admittedly not easy problem. But the leadership and the banks have always been the root cause," Doug murmured. "You don't owe us anything. I must admit, I was skeptical when I first saw you. But you risked yourself to expose Karlin's men. That was brave. If a little naive. How did you hear about them?"

"I had to do a little sleuthing. My ambassador class tends to give me little hints and inklings if I think someone is hiding something–whether they're in disguise, or omitting a truth. I was outside the shop at the cafe for two days before that. I was…anxious about going in.

"Then I saw them all gathered at the cafe, sitting in the back. I know little of Fiefdala, but it seemed out of place. As soon as I heard them mention a dragon called 'Mister K,' I knew they were up to something. It's the same thing I told Pierre. So I followed them, watched them observe the place, and went to the southern side of the city. The not-so-great part," she added unhappily.

"The southern district is still nowhere near what I'd call bad. Even that place is a massive upgrade from the decent part of Vale," Fiona commented. "Still, though…you could have gone to the town guard."

"I had no proof. Not till I picked their pockets the day of," she reasoned. "Anyway…I didn't know where else to go. I couldn't count on my family. Dealing with them is…challenging."

"Why is Karlin still rattling chains?" Doug growled. "Does he think he can ruin me further? Bold of him when he's the one currently on the run. And bolder if he thinks he can take you against your will."

"I think he needs something from Fiona." Lani pointed to Fiona's wrist. "Your mark gives off light, did you know that?"

"We uh…had noticed," Fiona said uneasily. "Look, Lani, I have to ask…what are your long-term plans here?"

"Mostly to free the entire indentured populace of Vale. But I'm one person and I'm laughably weak." She laughed bitterly at that notion.

"Okay. That's a big ask. That's one that even Varith couldn't fix." Who will be out on parole incognito, while I play mental health support? My problems are rapidly becoming ones that the hammer can't solve.

"Fiona…I can't in good conscience go back as I am. They'll hide behind closed borders, put people back in shackles, and I won't be able to do a thing. I hate being powerless." The twist of her beak, the saddened look on her face, didn't belong there on a girl so young.

"You're not, though," Fiona assured her. "And I would gladly bring my hammer down on the skulls of every slaver who laughs at the misery of the downtrodden. But I can't do that anymore. Or, I can't accomplish it that way."

"I have a proposal." Doug turned toward Lani, and pulled out the key from his pocket. "You recognize this key. Is there anything you can tell me about it?"

"Well, the symbol of Feo'thari is a dead giveaway." She took the key in hand, wearing the closest thing to a frown that her beak would allow, then handed it back. "You still haven't used it?"

"We've, uh…been busy, between various crisis moments. We've been meaning to schedule a day trip out there." Doug gestured to the apartment. "We also have a newcomer in a few days that'll be staying with us."

Fiona almost freaked out right then and there. No. Do not mention Bianca. Do not mention the borderline psycho ex-fiance who is currently on withdrawal from eight months of being a power-craving egomaniac, and a whole mountain of other issues.

Doug took the irked look as his sign. "Someone Fiona met in her travels and is helping her get settled in the city of Fiefdala. It seems to be a trend for her."

Lani frowned and examined the key. "The winged heart is an expression of the freedom of a soul. Feo'thari's domain still endures: our ability to affect our own futures. Riches of the heart will always vastly outweigh any material wealth in the world. The greatest treasure is each other."

"Hmm, most of what I know," Doug mused. "Anything specific to Vale?"

"Only that there would be a herald of her rebirth. No god or goddess has ever come back, once their spark is gone. But people still believe it. Especially among those on the worst contracts." She turned the key over, noting the inscription.

"The herald part I've not heard of," Doug confessed. "That might also be by word of mouth and not written anywhere. Although...My mother said no death is eternal. Not as long as someone remembers you." His gaze fell to the floor as he said that.

"Lani, would you want to come with us? I don't think I know enough about Feo'thari, but you seem to know a bit," Fiona offered

"Oh, I…uh…well, I don't know everything there is to know about her," she said, her hands flapping anxiously as she spoke at a high pitch. "Isn't your historian the best person for this task?"

"Lani? We'd like to get out of the city for a bit before things get dialed up to eleven like usual, with some quiet time. Besides, I think after being cooped up in Vale, you'd want to see the sights, yeah?" She hoped her proposal would at least put the timid girl at ease.

After a few seconds wringing her hands, Lani nodded and smiled faintly. "Alright. When are you two leaving?"

"Probably over the weekend, in a few days. Why don't you stay here instead of your place you're staying at? It might be safer," Fiona assured her. "We're not using the guest room for a few days."

"Wait. 'We'? Do you mean…" Lani trailed off as she made the connection, then let out a loud cooing sound. "Oh my! I didn't think–I mean, um, you two…wow, congrats!"

"We're keeping it…how does one put this, discreet?" Doug flapped his wings and looked a touch more wary than normal. Fiona giggled softly and patted one shoulder to assure him. "Stop that. I feel like you're looming over me. I'm four feet short."

"Eh, four foot three, if you add the horns," she added with a smirk. "Better bundle up for this one, though, from what I've gathered, the little area is kinda cold, this time of year."

"But…what should I do in the meantime?" Lani asked hesitantly. "I mean, I wouldn't stay here on charity."

Doug glanced at Fiona, his wings shrugging and one eye crest arched. "You know, we're still technically understaffed."

She knew exactly what to do after he said that. "Still up for learning from the merchant of fortune? Pretty sure we aren't gonna fix the problem of Vale in a day–"

She only got half her sentence out. Fiona soon found herself buried in feathers as the avian leaped in for a hug, crying while offering immense thanks.

Welp. Death by feather duster. That one wasn't on my bingo card.

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