The mission to clear bandits from the eastern trade routes had been profitable, efficient, and completed with their usual flair for turning three-day assignments into six-hour demonstrations of supernatural speed and competence. They'd returned to Amaranth with gold in their pouches, commendations from grateful merchants, and the satisfied exhaustion that came from work well done.

All of which made the scene in their Guild quarters feel like a particularly cruel joke.

Ash sat in her reading chair with Spark coiled across her lap, the salamander now easily the size of a large dog and still growing. On the table beside her sat a stack of official documents that had clearly arrived during their absence, each bearing the distinctive seals of various Amaranth administrative offices.

"How bad?" Ember asked, setting down her pack and studying Ash's expression.

"Bad," Ash replied, gently stroking Spark's scales as the salamander made contented chirping sounds. "Magistrate Cawel's office sent the final assessment for last week's... adventure."

She handed over the top document. The numbers were written in the sort of precise script that suggested bureaucratic finality.

"Four hundred and sixty gold pieces," Cinder read aloud. "For property damage, administrative processing, enhanced monitoring requirements, and expedited permit modifications."

"Four hundred and sixty," Pyra repeated numbly. "That's more than we made on this entire mission."

"Plus the monthly fees for behavioral assessments, the quarterly compliance inspections, and the annual license renewals." Ash consulted another document. "Those total another hundred and twenty gold pieces per month."

Kindle dropped into her chair with the sort of theatrical despair that would have been amusing under different circumstances. "We're going backwards. Every mission we complete, every day that passes, we fall further behind."

Spark, sensing the tension in the room, lifted its head and made a questioning trill. The salamander had grown more sensitive to their moods over the past month, often responding to stress with increased affection or attempts to cheer them up.

It unwound itself from Ash's lap and padded over to Pyra, who knelt to accept what could only be described as a salamander hug.

"Hello, beautiful," Pyra murmured, scratching behind Spark's horns while the creature nuzzled against her shoulder. "Did you miss me?"

Spark responded with a series of soft chirps and trills that carried genuine emotional weight. The salamander had developed a complex vocabulary of sounds that seemed to correspond to different moods and needs. This particular combination meant contentment, relief, and happiness at reunion.

"We missed you too," Ember said, joining them on the floor. Spark immediately included her in its affectionate greetings, wrapping its tail around her arm while continuing to chirp.

Kindle and Cinder added themselves to the impromptu family reunion, creating a circle around Spark, who basked in the attention with obvious delight. For a moment, the practical concerns faded.

They had, almost by accident, gained a new member to their misfit family. In the beginning, they'd split Spark's care based on who could best manage the salamander's various quirks. Ember soothed, Kindle distracted, Cinder trained, Ash researched. But increasingly, Pyra had become the center of Spark's attention. The salamander followed her, listened to her, watched her.

Imprinted on her like the helpless newborn it had once been.

Eventually, after Spark had satisfied itself that they'd returned safely, Ash brought the conversation back to financial realities.

"Obviously we can't pay everything. We'll need to prioritize." She laid out the different fees and penalties, sorted by urgency. "The property damage is most critical. If we don't make payments, merchants can file complaints that could lead to Guild sanctions."

Cinder studied the figures for a moment. "We should have enough from this mission to make a decent down payment. That might mollify them."

"Next are the various ongoing costs," Ash continued. "Those are due monthly, so there's time to come up with a payment plan."

"We could sell some of our equipment," Kindle suggested without conviction.

"My lightning sword cost two hundred gold pieces," Pyra said. "Even if I could get half that back, it wouldn't make a significant difference."

"My shoes were expensive, but they're custom-fitted," Cinder added. "No resale value."

Ember looked down at Spark, who had now climbed onto her lap and was settling in for what was clearly intended to be a long, comfortable nap. "We could return it," she said quietly.

"Return?" Ash asked.

"The salamander. We could take it back to the mountains, leave it with its own kind, where it belongs."

Spark, sensing the shift in mood, made a tiny, questioning chirp.

Pyra tensed. "Are you suggesting we abandon it?"

"Abandon? No!" Ember looked offended at the suggestion. "But this is obviously straining our resources and... I don't know. Maybe it would be happier among its own kind."

Kindle looked uncertain, but Cinder nodded. "It's a fair question. We don't know for certain that Spark is better off with us. It might have survived in the mountains, even as an orphan. Out here, it's... well, it's a liability."

Spark stretched luxuriously in Ember's lap, then rolled over to expose its belly for scratching. The gesture was so perfectly trusting, so completely domestic, that it was easy to forget they were discussing the financial logistics of keeping a magical fire-breathing creature as a pet.

"Look at that face," Kindle said, reaching over to rub Spark's belly. "How could anyone expect us to give up that face?"

"Because that face comes with a price tag that's bankrupting us," Cinder replied, though her tone lacked any real conviction. She was already reaching over to join the belly-rubbing session.

"Money is just a resource," Pyra declared. "We've handled worse problems than money."

"Have we?" Ash asked with genuine curiosity. "Because I can't think of any."

"We've handled being cursed by an interdimensional sorceress," Pyra pointed out. "We've handled being transported to an alien reality. We've handled learning to exist as five separate people. Money is just numbers."

"Numbers that determine whether we have a place to live," Ember said, though she was smiling as Spark began purring in response to the collective attention.

"We'll figure it out," Kindle said with the sort of confidence that came from someone who'd learned to expect solutions to materialize through sheer determination. "We always figure it out."

"We could ask for an extension on the payment timeline," Ash suggested. "Negotiate a payment plan with Magistrate Cawel's office."

"And pay interest fees while we're accumulating more costs," Ember pointed out. "This isn't a problem that gets smaller with time."

"We take more missions," Pyra said with determined optimism. "High-paying contracts. Dangerous assignments that other teams won't touch. We're A-rank now—we can handle whatever the Guild throws at us."

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

"That's what I was planning to discuss with Kaelin tomorrow," Ember agreed. "We need a strategy for maximizing our earning potential."

The Guild's administrative offices buzzed with morning activity as clerks processed mission reports, filed paperwork, and maintained the complex bureaucracy that kept dangerous people organized and nominally professional. Kaelin's office occupied a corner space in the upper levels, offering privacy for important conversations.

"Come in," Kaelin called when they knocked. "Take seats. This might take a while."

Her desk was covered with documents that bore the unmistakable look of inter-departmental correspondence—multiple seals, cross-references, and the dense formatting that suggested political complications.

"Good news or bad news first?" she asked.

"Bad news," they replied in unison, because experience had taught them to brace for impact.

Kaelin set down her paperwork and fixed them with the look of someone about to deliver unpleasant news. "There have been complaints."

"What kind of complaints?" Cinder asked, though her voice suggested she already suspected the answer.

"Guild complaints. From other adventuring teams." Kaelin pulled out a thick ledger. "Formal grievances about mission allocation, performance standards, and professional conduct."

"Professional conduct?" Ember looked offended. "What grounds?"

"The Iron Hawks filed a formal complaint claiming that the Fractured Flame's methods create unrealistic expectations for mission completion times. The Silver Crescents lodged a grievance about you monopolizing high-value contracts. Three other teams have petitioned for review of your A-rank status, claiming it was granted too quickly."

"Our A-rank status was earned," Ember said firmly.

"I know that. You know that. But Guild administration is under pressure to address these concerns." Kaelin spread out official documents. "Starting next week, I'm required to limit your mission frequency to prevent what they're calling 'market dominance.'"

"Market dominance," Ash repeated slowly. "We're being punished for being good at our jobs."

"You're being regulated because your competence is making other teams look incompetent."

"So what are you saying?" Kindle asked with growing alarm. "That we should deliberately perform worse to make other people feel better about themselves?"

"I'm saying that Guild leadership has asked me to implement mission distribution guidelines that ensure equitable access to high-value contracts," Kaelin replied. "Starting immediately, your team will be limited to three premium missions per month, and you must wait at least one week between mission applications to avoid restricting opportunities for other teams."

"Three missions per month," Ash repeated with dawning horror.

"Three premium missions," Kaelin clarified. "You can still take standard contracts, but the high-paying assignments that you've been specializing in will be rationed among all qualified teams."

"That's not enough," Pyra said with the flat certainty of someone doing rapid mental calculations. "Three premium missions won't cover our expenses."

"What expenses? Guild housing is provided, basic supplies are subsidized, and your standard of living should be comfortable on Guild wages."

"Spark," they said in unison, with varying levels of resignation.

"Spark." Kaelin sighed. "The fire salamander."

"Yes," Ember confirmed. "We're paying off property damage. And permit fees. And compliance audits. And..."

"Spark is expensive," Ash concluded.

"So give it back to the mountains," Kaelin suggested. "Let it live among its own kind. It's not a pet—it's a wild animal."

"No!" Pyra said, her vehemence surprising them.

"Pyra has a point," Cinder said more calmly. "Spark needs more care than we originally anticipated, but it's... well, it's part of the team now."

"It's family," Kindle said with a small smile.

Kaelin watched them for a moment, reading their expressions with practiced insight. "You're keeping it, aren't you?"

They nodded, a quiet but irrevocable consensus.

"Damn," Kaelin muttered under her breath. Then she collected herself with a long, resigned exhale. "Whatever your circumstances, the mission limitation is non-negotiable. Guild policy, effective immediately."

"There has to be another way," Kindle said with the desperate optimism of someone watching their financial solution evaporate. "Some exception or alternative arrangement."

"Actually," Kaelin said slowly, "there is one possibility. It's not common, and it comes with its own complications, but it might address your income needs."

"Anything," Pyra said, still agitated by the suggestion that they should give up Spark. "Tell us."

"Sponsorship," Kaelin replied. "Some of Amaranth's noble houses sponsor promising adventuring teams. They provide financial support in exchange for exclusive access to your services and the prestige of association with successful Guild members."

"Sponsorship," Cinder repeated with the tone of someone tasting something potentially poisonous.

"Noble house sponsorship," Ash added with philosophical dread.

"It would solve your income problems," Kaelin continued. "Sponsors typically cover all team expenses plus provide substantial monthly stipends. In exchange, they get first refusal on your services for any missions they require."

"What kind of missions do noble houses require?" Pyra asked suspiciously.

"Varies by house," Kaelin replied. "Some want personal security. Others need discrete problem-solving. Some just want the social prestige of having an A-rank team at their disposal."

"And the complications you mentioned?" Ember asked.

"Political obligations. Social expectations. Loss of independence." Kaelin's expression suggested she was familiar with the downsides of noble sponsorship. "Once you accept sponsorship, you become part of that house's political network. Your missions, your reputation, and your future are tied to their interests."

"We'd be giving up our autonomy," Ash observed.

"In exchange for financial security," Kaelin confirmed. "It's a trade-off that some teams find worthwhile."

"We're not a novelty act," Ember said with uncharacteristic bitterness. "We're not going to parade around as hired entertainers for socialites."

"You're an A-rank Guild team with a reputation for efficient mission performance," Kaelin replied calmly. "Any noble house would consider you a valuable asset."

"We're not assets," Kindle said quietly, echoing Ember's frustration. "We're people."

"I didn't mean it like that." Kaelin made a calming gesture. "But understand that from their perspective, you're an investment. They see A-rank team status, your distinctive... circumstances, your public image, and they calculate value. It's transactional, not personal."

Ember looked around at her sister-selves, seeing her own reluctance reflected in their expressions. The idea of becoming beholden to a noble house, dependent on their priorities, felt fundamentally wrong. They were still independent, still unburdened by external interests, and the thought of surrendering that autonomy felt like another loss of self.

But then she thought about Spark, currently sleeping peacefully in their quarters, trusting them to handle the complicated human problems that came with providing a safe home for a magical creature. The others must've been thinking the same thing, because one by one, they turned back to Kaelin with resignation in their eyes.

"What kind of financial backing are we talking about?" Ember asked.

"Depends on the sponsor," Kaelin replied. "But typically enough to cover major expenses, plus a monthly stipend. Some arrangements include housing upgrades, equipment provision, legal representation."

"Legal representation would be useful," Ash admitted. "Given our current situation with Magistrate Cawel's office."

"The right sponsor could make your salamander situation disappear entirely," Kaelin said. "Noble influence carries significant weight with regulatory enforcement."

"Do you have sponsors in mind?" Ember asked.

Kaelin nodded, clearly relieved that they were considering the option. "I've been approached by several houses expressing interest in your team. I could arrange meetings, let you evaluate the terms being offered."

"Several houses," Kindle said. "What kind of reputation do they have?"

"Mixed," Kaelin admitted. "Like any political arrangement, sponsorship involves choosing the best option among imperfect alternatives."

"That's not exactly reassuring," Pyra observed.

"Nothing about your situation is exactly reassuring," Kaelin replied with brutal honesty. "But sponsorship might be your only viable option for maintaining your current lifestyle."

"Our current lifestyle," Ash mused. "Including Spark."

"Including Spark," Kaelin confirmed.

Ember closed her eyes for a moment, thinking about Spark's complete trust, its innocent assumption that its human family would handle all the complicated problems that came with keeping a magical creature safe and happy. They'd made a commitment the moment Spark hatched in their quarters. They'd accepted responsibility for a life that depended on them entirely.

"Set up the meetings," she said finally.

"All of them?" Kaelin asked.

"All of them," Ember confirmed. "We'll evaluate our options and choose the arrangement that works best for everyone involved."

"Including Spark," Pyra added.

"Especially Spark," Kindle agreed.

"Fine," Kaelin said, pulling out her schedule book and preparing to write. "I'll contact the interested parties and let them know that the Fractured Flames are... considering their options."

She hesitated over the last part, as if uncertain how to characterize their delicate position.

"That we're open to making new friends," Ash suggested helpfully.

Kaelin snorted and began writing. "Just show up. Be polite. And try not to burn any bridges before you've crossed them."

"We're professionals," Cinder reminded her with a touch of sarcasm.

"In some matters," Kaelin agreed without looking up from her notes.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.