To say the anxiety was building, was an understatement. Even Tucker sensed it, because he tried repeatedly to nestle down on Fiona’s lap during the evening, and she just couldn’t sit still.

  How can I bring this up, now? Wasn’t it easier if they didn’t know where I came from, and what happened to me? Can I even look them in the eye, and tell them that I lied about a few things, because I still don’t know the full truth, myself?

  A knock at the door interrupted her thought process, and Tucker—who was using her whole lower body for his napping spot—arched his back and hopped down. “Well, guess it’s time to break the ice,” she said with a moment of determination, rose up after brushing off a few errant cat hairs, and went to the door.

  When she opened the door, not only Darla and Bonnie were there, but Greg, too. “Hey, um…” she awkwardly trailed off, unsure what to say. Ever the stoic, he tipped his head gently in Bonnie’s direction.

  “She told me something was really bothering you. Forgive the slight breach of confidentiality, but I saw you today, and I knew something was off, too,” he spoke softly. Bonnie wrung her hands anxiously beside him, but Fiona smiled faintly at the two of them.

  “Greg, it’s okay. I’ve known you long enough that, maybe this is the time to share this one. And I’ve kinda been burying it for a while, because…I didn’t know what to do with it. Come on in.” she waved them inside, with Tucker purring and brushing up against Greg, who wore that look of the doomed on his face for a brief second, but Tucker didn’t pounce onto him—that was, until he took a seat on the couch, and pinned him in place, kneading softly.

  “Ow, Tucker, you’re not a kitten, and you have razor blades for claws,” Greg muttered, but Tucker purred louder. Darla and Bonnie also sat down bookending him, while Fiona took the small armchair adjacent to the coffee table. She’d set out a small incense of cinnamon—her favorite scent—where a faint wisp of smoke was barely visible. She’d also set out a few cups of coffee, still steaming warm, and everyone took one—though Darla’s hand emitted a soft glow, and the coffee picked up an additional scent of something sweet.

  “Alright, so, what’s bothering you, Fiona?” Bonnie was the first to talk, after glancing at the other two.

  “How much do you guys know about Earth? I’ve realized that I’m not the only person from there, but…I’ve never come across someone else in Cepalune who declared it outright,” she asked.

  “Summons can come from a few pathways. Portal magic, summoners, and gods and goddesses occasionally pull individuals from the far corners of the universe,” Greg explained. “I’ve heard Earth mentioned a time or two, even read a few brief lessons on it. However, this is not my field of expertise.”

  “I know that Earth has magic of its own. It’s different, it has a deep history of mages and other wild stuff,” Bonnie chimed in, not even glancing at her small notebook in her hand. “You were from there, originally?”

  “Yeah. Earth was…not magical. Or, if it was, then no one spoke up and they kept it well hidden,” Fiona answered. She could feel her pulse quicken. Thinking about the end…it didn’t bring back happy memories. It brought back the worst ones to the forefront.

  “Girl, you gotta tell me more about this world! I’ve never actually met a summoned! You’d think someone would pay more attention to that fact! The fact that mages import people from all the corners of the universe. So, you were an elf there?” Bonnie asked. Fiona made a halting sound, and Bonnie raised a furry brow in response. “You weren't?”

  “Nope. Weirdly, I woke up, buck naked, as an elf. Man, that sure made that farmer’s day, till his wife beat him with a garden rake,” she laughed, and Bonnie made a contented sigh.

  “You do make a splash everywhere, don’t you, Fi."

  “Not always on purpose," she admitted.

  Bonnie looked at her in curiosity. "What...did you look like, then? This might be the first time I heard about a summon being changed on the trip.”

  Fiona let out a soft sigh. “I was…well, you see me now? Like, it’s mostly me. But back then, I was…plain. Flat chested. Mousy brown hair. I still had green eyes, and a body that never toned out, even when I worked out at full tilt," Fiona answered. "I came into the world with literally nothing but knowledge and my name. And shapely long legs. Seriously, Bon-Bon, I have trouble keeping up with you when you go running.”

  Bonnie tilted her head back and let out a cackling laugh–she always did that when she got excited! “Hah! Not many could keep up with me. Kitsune are built for speed, and magic. I have been doing enchantment work since I was eight. We also live three times as long as a human, and my granny? She's like a hundred years old, and still looks young!”

  They continued the work while they chatted for a while, and Bonnie asked more about Earth. “So, what was it like, on this world?”

  “It was more…mundane. Mechanized. The automatons here, are a precursor to what our world had,” she explained. “We built a world on science. You built a world on magic, Bonnie. I don’t even know how to draw a parallel.”

  Thinking of what was, left her with a tone of melancholy. “Where I lived, it wasn’t that dissimilar to here. We had rolling hills, some smaller mountains nearby, and a beautiful lake. I love the Autumn, it’s always my favorite season. A last gasp of beauty before the world slumbers through the winter. There was something fun about cozying up with a coffee, late at night during a fall evening, with a book in my old apartment. Just me.”

  “You didn’t…have anyone else?” Bonnie asked. Fiona shook her head. Not for long chunks of time, no, she thought silently.

  “I had my shop. As much as I griped about the place I inherited from the lady that used to run it…it was my place. No, it was the community's place to hang out.”

  “What about family? A boyfriend?”

  “I…” Fiona let out a breath, and set her tools down. “I haven’t slowed down to talk about these things, have I?”

  “Well, you are now. That’s a start,” Bonnie proposed thoughtfully. “So, do you remember your summoning? I know the records indicate that not all summonses recall all the details.”

  Fiona took a deep breath, and clenched her leg with one hand. “Bonnie…let’s just say, I might be the last person you meet from Earth, anytime soon.”

  The silence of the room was palpable. Even Tucker stopped purring and trying to massage Greg, and peered at her, curious. “Fiona, what happened?” Greg finally broke the tranquil spell.

  “Earth got wrecked.”

  “Wait, what?” Bonnie almost dropped her coffee mug, and Greg caught it before it could fall. “What do you mean--”

  “Bonnie…let her finish, first,” Darla interjected calmly, her golden eyes dimned. “Go ahead, Fi.”

  Fiona closed her eyes. She saw the bus. She saw thirty people fleeing to safety. Her, grabbing her weapons and bailing out of the bus when she saw a losing battle. “I’m saying, Earth’s gone. Monsters came up from the ground. They started destroying everything.” She hadn’t wanted to give much thought to this, until Greg had zeroed in on her errant comment at the palace and she wished she’d never said it. Because ever since then, that creeping, heart-freezing end never left her mind.

  She’d tried to bury it down with heroics, zany antics, and being something she’d always wanted to be: free to express herself. Now, she had to face it.

  “About a day before the end…strange circles opened on the ground. No one knew what they were. Not until monsters from a horror film started coming through. The little ones were creeping atrocities of claws, tentacles, shaped like demonic dogs. The big ones…the big ones wrecked cities, and shrugged off harm from our biggest weapons. They came from everywhere. The oceans, remote areas…a few, right in the center of our cities. I was part of my country’s volunteer military, and I had just self-destructed my life over the past year before that. So, I grabbed my gear and jumped right into evacuating civilians.”

  She cupped the mug of coffee in her hands, before taking a nervous sip. “Yeah. That was me, geared up with every piece of equipment I could carry, finding myself guarding shuttle buses to get people out of the impact zone. The military was never prepared for a threat of this scale, popping up from what I presume are portals, right behind their borders. It was chaos. We also got reports of extraordinary individuals fighting and winning elsewhere, but I didn’t know the truth because our communications were shattered.”

  She glanced at the anxious eyes of her friends, then back down at the mug in her hands, rubbing one hand along the side anxiously. “I was on one of the last shuttle busses, keeping it defended. There was a big old monster in the form of a dragon—or something like it, because this thing was utterly monstrous--and it, along with a horde of the smaller, nasty things, was chasing us. People I knew were on that bus, people I was close to. And someone I cared about.”

  If she said her name, she might break down in tears, right then. She chose not to. “So, there I was, bailing out of a bus, and fighting a running battle through downtown with other military survivors. I was never a spectacular fighter until that day, when I killed my first living being. A demonic dog was gnawing on one of the soldiers, gulping down chunks of flesh like it was a buffet. You know those firearms that you see with the Adventurer’s guild? We had those…but faster firing, deadlier, driven by technology. Let’s just say that I didn’t hesitate to start racking up a kill count faster than I smash slimes.”

  Bonnie tried to rise, but Greg gently put a hand on her leg and tilted his head with the slightest of motions. Her jaw trembling, she sat back down. Fiona took a calming breath. The end of this story wasn’t that far away.

  “I fought like a demon, defending every citizen of my city. The soldiers started to fall, but I didn’t. I grabbed the weapons of the fallen and kept fighting. I knew if I didn’t kill the big one tearing apart the city, it wouldn’t stop. So, I did the most dangerous thing imaginable, and improvised, grabbed every explosive I had, and went into a building already slated for destruction.”

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  She could picture the claws, the blood, the twisted bodies. Her screams of defiance as she battled through the building, a desperate plan forming between her and her old commanding officer from the guard. They repurposed the placed demolition charges and hooked them up. They succeeded in that while the monster rampaged, and her old CO got into an APC, firing to get the creatures’ attention, and drawing it toward their trap. She laid this out while the others listened, all their shocked expressions as she described the battle.

  One of the last things that stood out was that grim smile on her CO’s face as the vehicle’s weapon ran empty. The monster, leering at him. That polite nod as he looked back to her, just before the vehicle was overturned by a creature so massive, it had no parallel on Earth, its eyes wreathed in hatred.

  That split second, before he and the vehicle were crushed. He knew he’d done his part to ensure the sacrifice was worth it, as she hit the trigger, and watched that destruction barreling down, debris and dust flying towards her position. She knew, from the second she got off the bus, she was dying that day But she wasn’t dying without making them pay dearly for every second she was alive.

  “I dropped a building on that monster. We hurt it badly. But not badly enough. And not without consequence. A piece of debris pierced through where I was hiding and injured me. Fatally.”

  Her hand instinctively went to her torso, her new body unmarked by the phantom injury. She’d been pierced by a piece of rebar. She remembered sliding off, screaming, coughing on dust and destruction, and bleeding. “I fought off more of those monsters. I ran through every weapon I had. The streets were covered in dead abominations before I gave out. Then, as I staggered there, trying to keep myself from bleeding out, the monster rose from the massive debris pile. It looked right at me, knowing I’d caused it harm. It felt hopeless. Everything we’d done, was for nothing.”

  Greg didn’t stop Bonnie this time as she rose up, and knelt next to Fiona, a trickle of moisture in her eyes, and her fluffy tail drooping. She put one hand over Fiona’s, who could feel her breath shaking slightly.

  “I was down to my last weapon. I was dying, with a piece of construction metal sticking out of me, and I said to that sin against humanity, ‘Til my last drop of blood leaves me, I’ll protect my world.’ And the strangest thing happened. It…it tilted its head. Like it knew what I was saying.” She glanced down, and finally, set the coffee cup aside.

  “Then, it picked up an oil tanker truck that had been overturned in the destruction, as if I deserved special attention.”

  She saw it in slow motion. That last look of hatred in its eyes. Coiled muscle lifting and throwing thirty tons of metal and flammables like it was a child’s toy, all its wrath aimed at her. She closed her eyes.

  “Fiona Swiftheart died on a Lunesday defending her world, surrounded by dead monsters, and crushed to oblivion by a vengeful eldritch dragon who threw a tanker truck at her. I wasn’t lying when I said a truck hit me. I just left the part out about how.” Her breath hitched, and she felt the trickle of burning at the corners of her eyes, the tears coming that she didn’t want them to see.

  Bonnie hugged her tightly, her breath coming out in soft sobs. No one spoke for a moment.

  The only sound was her letting out a small anguish that was six months overdue, delayed by jumping into heroics, treasure hunting, fighting monsters, and every distraction she could find, trying to forget that day.

  The tears did come, all the same. Gushing tears reserved for funerals, or the happiest days of someone’s life. She’d been in such a whirlwind, that, reliving this was something she’d tried to avoid for so long. “I wish you’d told us sooner,” Bonnie whispered so quietly, she barely picked it up, even with her elven ears.

  Another moment went by, while emotion poured out of her, and she gripped Bonnie firmly. “I’m sorry, Bon-Bon. I didn’t want to drop this burden on you guys. It’s too much for anyone. I was happy with what I was doing, so I didn’t have to sit down and think about why.”

  Tears eventually ran their course, and Darla handed her a cloth for her to dab her eyes, until he was sure that no more would come. “Yeah. I might be a little messed up on the inside guys. I’m sorry.”

  “Fiona…you don’t have to be sorry for this,” Greg offered softly, his chiseled expression now less statue-like, and softer, more caring. “That…is a terrible thing to live with, and you won’t have to live with it alone anymore. But your tale didn’t end on Earth. Do you remember the exact moments after?”

  She shook her head, her voice hoarse. “No, Greg, I don’t. I don’t know what happened to me. There was no summoner waiting for me when I woke up, buck naked in a cornfield, in a body that was both was and wasn’t mine. No goddess congratulated me on a new life, and a chance to become the ultimate badass, or sent me on some quest to kill a demon lord.” Darla raised an eyebrow at that. “Like, an actual, world-ending monster, not darklings, dear.”

  “I’m immensely relieved,” she replied dryly.

  Bonnie could read the mood, and gave Fiona a loving hug, her cheek resting on the nook of her shoulder. "Oh my gosh. Girl, I've known you since you got into town. You could have told me, Jake, Greg, we would have helped you. Now I understand why you act the way you do--you've been carrying this the whole time."

  Fiona, you’ve been kind of an idiot, haven’t you? She thought with a bit of vitriol. Well, better I realize it now, than never. She finally responded to Bonnie, who gave the softest hugs. And not on account of her fur, either.

  “I know, Bonnie. I took a good long look at what happened to me, and I figured that life was over. This is why my cheery, bubbling attitude kind of took over. I knew if I gave too much thought to it, I'd have this grim reality check that everything I knew was gone,” she admitted. Bonnie had a tear drip down her cheek, and it wasn't alone.

  "Now I get why you're so dead-set on defending your guildmates and going at this with this fervor. You didn't want to lose your world again, did you?"

  "Never again," she murmured.

  "You've got us, Fi. No one's taking that away," she whispered.

  "Thanks, Bon-bon. That...that means a lot to me right now." She took a shaky breath. She had real friends here, people wouldn’t bail out on her.

  “Given this new information…” Greg trailed off, hands slackly at his side. “This gives new context to many of your actions. I may have been unusually harsh.”

  “That’s on me, Greg. I didn’t spell this all out at the beginning,” she replied softly. He pressed his lips together gently, shaking his head. He still felt bad about it.

  “But…why now? Why not before?” Sharp as ever, Greg drove home the big question. “It had something to do with today, didn’t it?”

  "It did. You guys might want to sit down for this one. I didn’t lay out all the details at Darla’s place. Because I think it’s related.”

  She went over the trip to the office for licensing and getting her merchant class—and Bonnie went stiff as a board when she mentioned her class title, her tail on end. “That class doesn’t exist! I’ve never heard of it!”

  “Yeah. It did not help that I’ve misunderstood the classes and marks until now. I have a lot to catch up on, Bonnie. So, some voiceless woman spoke to me, and asked me if I was…related to a whole bunch of mythic creatures and gods. I told them no. So, low behold…Merchant of Fortune stuck!”

  “You…invented a class? On the spot?” Greg asked in a worried tone.

  “Yep. When I came to, the Contract went up in flames. I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad sign, but I scared the crap out of the clerk at the office, who was very concerned about what it could mean,” she added. “Guys, I don’t know what it means. I don’t know what the symbol of my class means, either.”

  “Hang on. What does it look like?” Bonnie didn't shy away and looked her right in the eyes. Fiona had to let go of her for a moment, to roll up her sleeve. Fiona felt a tingle as Bonnie looked down, eyes gazing at the winged heart. She traced the feathers gently with one claw–which tickled, a little. Everyone gathered to examine it

  Bonnie spent a good long minute looking at it and looked puzzled. “It’s pretty. I’ve never seen anything like it. Most people don’t wear their literal heart on their sleeve, either–”

  “I get it. Clarke said that not everyone shares their mark with others. But I trust you guys. I thought the whole class bit was a culture thing until I saw Clarke jab his finger with a quill. Maybe I was a little airheaded for the past six months. So, I got a lot to catch up on."

  “Oh, boy,” Bonnie sighed. “You just assumed that…well, you know now, at least. With you out in the field slaying monsters and not spending too much time in town, I can see why it wasn’t readily apparent to us. And we just assumed you knew. That was my bad. And Greg, surprisingly.”

  “I had my suspicions about her mannerisms and some of the phrases she used,” Greg pushed back lightly. “Still, I didn’t ask the question, except when Barry was extorting her.”

  “You know what’s terrifying, guys? Fiona was busy slaying monsters and beating up dragons without a class,” Darla noted observantly, looking proud. “Guess you don’t need magic when you’ve got sheer willpower and luscious red locks.”

  Fiona huffed at that. “I’m just determined. Now, everyone has a mark, and a class tied to it. And powers, right? Clarke was saying everyones is unique to them.”

  Bonnie rolled up her sleeve and parted her fur on her wrist just enough so that she could see the image of a witch hat slowly fading into view, with intricate runes stitched into the fabric. Everyone leaned in to see it. “They can be. More intricate, can mean more powerful, but there can be power in even the mundane, so don’t take that to heart too quickly. Do you mind if I…sketch yours? I think it’s worth looking at.”

  Fiona didn’t hesitate to answer. “Of course, I’d like to know, too.” Bonnie took out her notepad and sketched it, the pen strokes smooth and fluid. “Bonnie, if you–”

  “Fiona, we’ll help you. You don’t even need to ask,” she said with a warm smile. “Plus, you’ve got my interest like nothing else I’ve studied! I mean, uh, not studying you, but–”

  “I’ve been told kitsune could be forward, but boy, Bonnie, that was bold,” Fiona teased, and Bonnie had to stop from snickering too loudly. Greg turned aside looking boyishly awkward, and Darla’s smile was too sharp for her liking.

  “You know what I meant, Fi. Sheesh. I think you were secretly this exact opposite in your previous life,” Bonnie pointed out observantly.

  “You know something, you’re pretty close to the mark. I didn’t get out much, I had a few friends, and my family, but it was a small circle. Despite the short-term struggle with Sir Lack-of-parties, I like it here! I have to work hard, but the payoff is immense, and I’ve got you guys to hang out with!” she beamed enthusiastically. Bonnie shied away, looking bashful. “Oh, now you’re getting shy, you loveable vixen?”

  “Maybe a little.” She glanced at Darla and Greg. “Goes without saying, nobody says a word about this to anyone unless Fiona’s okay with it? There’s a lot to chew on here, a lot of mysteries I’d like to solve.”

  “I like the idea of having exclusive clientele—I mean friends,” Darla purred, and corrected herself when everyone laughed.

  “We still have pressing things about the shop to worry about, and it’s not like the whole world knows about this,” Fiona assured her. “But uh, we should probably not attract attention, yeah? King Lack-of-hugs doesn’t need more ammunition to fling at me, given that he taxed me for a kingdom’s ransom.”

  “You know what? I can understand that one,” Bonnie said softly, and clicked her clawed fingers together loosely. “Fi…look…you know you can trust us, right?”

  She thought about the times her trust had been broken, before. But this time had to be different. “I do. Now, if any other really weird things happen to me, I’m going to let you guys know.”

  “Uh, Fiona…” Greg trailed off. “I think you really should see someone about this…massive bag of trauma sitting in your history. I have never heard of a summon being yanked from certain death.”

  “What about resurrection?” she asked.

  “I do not know if there’s conclusive proof that’s possible, even with magic,” he sighed. “Bonnie, I think we have some research to do. And a shop to get open, so Barry doesn’t repossess her soul.” She gave him a dark look at the subtle hint.

  She slapped her forehead, and groaned. “I just thought of something truly awful. We don’t have any real employees besides ourselves! Greg can’t work retail at full tilt, he doesn’t have the chops for it! I need to get over this problem right away!”

  “Girl, one problem at a time. With the grand opening, I think we can afford to do this one by ourselves so that the only cost we’re spending on is just our time and effort. We can bring on employees, as we find out what capacity we’ll need. So, take notes, and don’t burn yourself out,” Bonnie suggested and pounded her hand into her cupped hand. “Remember, anything you can apply business expenses to, you do it because it’s like free money! Or, less money going to King Beardless. At least this problem is easy to solve, unlike the cosmic mystery we need to unravel.”

  Fiona sniggered at that, because even Bonnie was leaning into it now, and maybe she’d be even more savage in her critique of that scheming king.

  “We’ve got this, guys. Your slightly crazy elf isn’t gonna let you down.”

  (Magius acquires the Merchant Class to make the sale...)

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