Newly Broke Heroine! [Book One Complete, Cozy Fantasy Adventure]

The mercenaries in Fiefdalian uniforms, now severely depleted in number, all trembled in fear at the previously missing King of Vale.

"Get out. I have unfinished business. Don't look back or you won't get a chance to limp out of here." Varith's authoritative tone immediately ceased all hostilities, and the men still standing limped away to the giant hole in the world. Fiona saw a framework of metal scaffolding she hadn't noticed before. A lift was coming up along the wall of the giant pit, currently lacking riders.

Varith pointed at Fiona, looking at her with contempt. "How'd you get here so fast? I had to dig through the wreckage of that damn forge to find the first hint of what Karlin was up to. Lucky for me, he left his teleport at his residence unguarded, since he was in such a hurry."

The platform that was sitting idle behind us? That makes sense. But Fiona's focus was on dealing with this new problem. "I followed my instincts," she answered simply.

She also directed a gold ingot at him for good measure from the dwindling pile, hoping to hit him in the face. She wasn't surprised when he caught the brick in mid-air with one hand, inches from his nose, and he sneered at her. "Really? One brick?"

"A brick to the face is a universal power!" she called out defiantly. Or, maybe it would take a dozen at once? That was tough tossing one at a time, and I'm no Magneto throwing around hundreds of metal items at once.

Varith gripped the improvised missile so tightly that the gold ingot dented from the grasp of his fingers, before he tossed it aside. He smirked softly. "The trick with the molten gold was impressive. But there's none of that here, this time."

Fiona took one step forward and put a warding hand back to keep Bonnie from advancing. "You are dead set on a fight, aren't you? With the whole universe, it feels like," she said with a focused fury. "Orchestrating all this, trying to provoke your people to lay siege to Fiefdala? What really happened? Did Karlin find out what you were doing and get cold claws? Or did he hoodwink you, too?"

Strangely, Doug laughed at this. "I don't think that's how...you know what, forget it," he said, his body tensed at the sight of the king. "Gonna spill the details?"

"No. I'm just going to spill blood," Varith replied. "All you need to know, Fiona, is that this hurts. This hurts so much to see you. It hurts, knowing I have to destroy her legacy. And you."

Feo'thari's legacy? Or, just me? She kept her weapon readied, and her shield at a low power. "Why are you doing this, Varith? Or should I say, my demon of my earthly past?"

He remained unmoving, the blade in his hand not so much as wavering a fraction of an inch. "Do you think of me so little that you paint ghosts of your past onto me? To project your failures onto someone you can hate?"

"I don't have to project anything. I've narrowed it down. It's who you've always been. Just a shadow, mooching off everyone else's well-being, Dad."

Everyone but Doug reacted with shock. But yet, Varith still didn't address the accusation. "First, you accuse Theo of being this…Glados Hennaway. Who, I presume, was part of Karlin's plot?" Theo twitched at this, his eyes bulging in fear. Varith continued as if he hadn't noticed.

"Then, you accuse me of being the deadbeat of your former life. I think you know who I am, Fiona. But you lack the bravery to say my name."

Jake's limbs coiled as if this could break out into a fight anytime. "Varith, you've invaded the sovereignty of Fiefdala, and we have the authority to subdue you and present you before the court of guilds. I can think of a lengthy list of crimes we can stick you for, with the backing of the Unified Kingdoms."

Jake, ever the professional, ignored the spat between Fiona and Varith. "I presume you weren't aware of this little setup, were you?"

"Not this part," Varith admitted. "Oh, but I wouldn't have shed a tear to take all the gold out of this place myself. From what I've seen of Fiefdala, it would be better served in my hands, anyway."

"Sure. Ignoring the history of slavery," Jake said calmly.

Varith laughed at that. "You couldn't stop the desolation of your economy for almost ten years, Fervier, from what I've gathered! I know who you are and every power player on this continent. And a few standing to invade it, because of that damn dragon and his obsession." That likely meant Karlin. "I can't believe I bought into his idea to bankrupt Fiefdala. His whole plan hinged on lying to everyone and then getting everyone else to fight one another! Well, he got part of it right. He just didn't realize he had screwed his home country. He was bound to end up with nothing but rubble and a destroyed dream."

"Yeah, your plan to free the slaves of Fiefdala. What a joke," Fiona said accusingly, leering at this wraith from her past. "You'd have to be utterly manic, utterly irrational, to justify what you've done so far for that. Did you have to destroy another country to do it? Were you working with this guy to help?"

Varith glanced at Theo and shrugged. "Dunno who that is. Who's he to you?"

Fiona settled her unsympathetic, glare at Theo. "My guess, the future queen of Fiefdala, aka, Glados Hennaway."

"Is there another Glados we should be aware of?" Bonnie sighed, and Fiona observed that Theo twitched again. He kept doing that. Repeatedly, and he was quite agitated, even by the measure of being restrained by elemental chains.

"Why do you all keep going on about her name! Also, it's so thrilling to be mistaken as some less important bad guy!" Theo called out weakly from his pinned position. "Just kill her! It's what you want!"

Varith pointed his sword at him and didn't even look in his direction, but kept his focus on Fiona. "Speak another word, and I'll do to you what I did to the predecessor king of Vale."

Theo instantly shut up. Varith glanced at Fiona's friends, then her, before speaking. "You've been here eight months. What happened to the Fiona I knew? The one who was more self-centered, selfish, and stubborn to a fault?"

"I've been busy and spent a long time reflecting on who I was." Fiona knew this wasn't her father. This was someone far worse. More painful, even. "I didn't like the old me anymore. I had to change, or live with regret."

Varith clenched his jaw as she said that. "You don't get to change. You never change, not even the gods who yanked us here can change you!" he roared. "Yet they were cruel enough to deny me death."

"Fiona changed." Bonnie's soft voice carried more effectively than Varith's rage, and she stepped forward. "I know the woman I met eight months ago. She was a little rough around the edges and scared, but she had a heart of gold. It just took some time to wipe the tarnish off. Because despite her own challenges, she'll go out of her way to help almost anyone. Time and time again."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"I don't pretend to understand why you want to tear her down, but I can hazard a guess: You feel like she burned you." Greg took his chance to speak, sensing this might be the only time before words inevitably failed. "If you truly knew her, back then, you would know she is capable of change. Or you were pretending."

"Pretend?!" Varith screamed. "I didn't have to! I even forgave her for the shit she used to pull, even with her damn store going down in flames."

Fiona knew without a doubt that Doug had been right. She hadn't wanted to see the truth.

Her grip loosened on her weapon, just a little. I don't know if I can fight him this time, Wingding.

[Ghost will keep haunting.]

Her companions' cryptic response was simple enough...and pointed enough, to drive home that she couldn't end this with violence. "Are we going to do this, Varith? Because this time around, you have my full and undivided attention."

Varith's head hung lower, just a little. "So stubborn. You're going to fight me willfully? Even though you know you're going to lose?"

All her friends readied their weapons or abilities, but she lowered her weapon. "You know something? We don't have to fight. I think you could use a change of career. I could use an artist to make commissions for the shop. Give it a little color, a little creativity. The dark colored walls need a splash of life. Know anyone like that?"

"Don't." Varith's reaction was little more than a deathly quiet denial. "Don't do this, Fi. Don't pretend we can put things back to normal. Don't pretend you can fix someone irreparably broken. A lot of the damage carried over. You know what my first experience here was in Vale? Someone tried to put a chain on me."

Her heart sank when Varith confirmed it, and the moisture returned to Varith's eyes. "Maybe you came back as you were, with a choice? But I saw what happened to you, Fiona. It was burned into my memory. You, on a last stand, killing every demon that moved, collapsed a building on a god, and stood right there stoically while that godforsaken titan of a monster obliterated you with a tanker truck.

"When the monsters descended upon me, before the end? I was given a choice. Save myself by destroying something else. That was my bargain. That's what my summoner promised me, with little more than a whisper in my ear. I had to destroy something beautiful. And that I'd know it when I saw it."

Varick let out a sobbing laugh. "Destroy something beautiful? Telling that to an artist is the greatest insult of all! But after I watched you get crushed to oblivion, it was a price I paid all too freely! Then whoever brought me to this world plopped me down in a slaver's paradise, starting from the worst spot imaginable, with skills to kill, but no other direction. You don't know what I've done. Not everything."

Fiona knew where this was going. The history was laid bare, now. She could feel that clench of bad memories in her chest.

Varith continued. "Then I looked in the mirror one day after acquainting myself with a little bit of Cepalunean history. I saw to my horror what I'd become. Who I resemble, who I was fated to destroy." Varith shook his head, letting out a bitter laugh. "You know something? You are the spitting image of your mom, Fiona. I don't think she's a dead goddess, but she is related to her, in some screwed up way. So I have to either destroy Feo'thari's legacy, or you."

Something about the way they said it triggered a memory. something she and Doug had been talking about recently. "Hey, knowledge keeper of the past. is his history lesson up to par?" she asked, giving him Doug a subtle verbal nudge.

He got the hint, his face brightening, as he put up one claw, while cautiously keeping the other flame in his free hand. "I'm not convinced Vanael killed her. Now, I do admit, you do share a little resemblance to Vanael, but that particular god of the pantheon had that...everyman look. Depending on how you looked at him, his appearance shifted. The strange effect persists in artwork, murals, and even written descriptions. I am curious: who told you about Vanael and Feo'thari? It's…pretty obscure, now. Fewer know the 'true' appearance of Vanael. Or were you told you look like him?"

Varith's anger faded, just for a moment. "What difference does it make?!"

Fiona took Doug's cue. Who was missing from the discussion right now? Who had been sitting on the sidelines, or working behind the scenes, the entire time? Someone whom they still hadn't accounted for?

Fiona took the plunge, and fought back the clench of regret in her throat. "Bianca…I know we have a lot of things to talk about, cry, hug it out, and maybe catch up on a few existential crisis moments. And a lot of apologies for the way things were between us. But seriously? Please answer the miniature dragon's question."

The mention of Varith's true name had the intended effect. He lowered his weapon. "So you finally dared to say it aloud."

"Oh, Gingersnaps. This is Fiona's ex-something?" Vick, the slowest on the uptick, really was not reading the room right now. Fiona gave him a brief glare before turning back to focus on the ex, who was likely still having the same problems as before: high highs and low-lows of emotions.

"Bianca, I don't know what happened to you, or how you fell so far from the woman I knew. But one thing I'm sure of? There is something pretty sus about how you seem to feel railroaded into destroying Feo'thari, or what's left of her. Now, please answer the question to satisfy my companion's undying curiosity."

Varith lowered his blade a shade further, but kept Theo in his energy coils, pinning him to the rock wall. "You really want to know? A witch with brown hair advised me on Fiefdala and how it needed adjustments after what I pulled off in Vale. Sounded like a pretty good idea at the time, considering I'm still in the mood to continue putting the continent under new management. What is your angle, Fiona? You think you can talk me down?!"

Everyone looked at each other skeptically. Fiona answered their thoughts. "Okay, the hair doesn't match, but that sounds like the way Glados Hennaway works, and hair dye exists. She was this mysterious woman with all the answers, I presume?"

Fiona saw Theo's eyes widen as she said the name. Varith–or Bianca, faltered again. "No, that wasn't her name. It was uh…Gwendal Hylason?"

"Glados Hennaway, with her name rearranged in an anagram. Does this Goldilocks wannabe think she can trick everyone with this stupid scheme?" Fiona roared in frustration. "How smooth-brained do you have to be?!"

"Stop saying her name!" Theo shouted, which was difficult, given the low-level tasing he was currently receiving from Varith. He looked panicked, beyond his current predicament, and she locked focus on him. She still had to vent some hate on him later. It was so hard to get second dates, and she hated it even more because he'd used her.

"You mean, stop saying Glad–" She stopped mid-sentence as her brain processed the information.

Wingding and her were still convinced Theo was someone else, if not Glados, who was still missing. She was, in theory, some kind of intelligence gatherer or super spy. And now, Fiona had the craziest theory of all time. She'd called out fake gold before. And then they proved themselves to be fake.

Could the same magic that could cover up fake gold so well, so that no one else could detect it but her, apply the same magic to an identity? To a person, even?

An elven smile crept up on her face, and she put one finger up to Varith. "Babe, one sec. Can you stop tasing the cretin for just a minute?"

Varith recoiled at that question. "Do you think platitudes will stop this–"

"Glados, Hennaway, the evil barbie witch?" Fiona stated loudly. Theo recoiled again, eyes filled with panic. "Glados Hennaway, the sneaky witch of the fens?"

"Stop saying her name!" Theo screamed.

"Or, what? What'll happen to…Glados Hennaway, the future queen of Barry the beardless?!" Fiona shouted as she bopped Theo on the nose, now enduring a presumptive panic attack. "Because you sir--or should I say, miss future queen, are a fake and a fraud, Glados. Boom, shakalaka!"

Theo's whole body twitched, and he looked at all of them with panic. A bright light lit up on his arm–his mark was activating, which she admittedly hadn't seen before. It was in the shape of what looked to be the face of an ordinary person, but the more she looked at the mark, the more the face changed. From an old woman, to a young child, to a bearded man, all the way back to a teenage girl with earrings and a pixie hairstyle.

While this spectacle was ongoing, Theo's boyish face slowly morphed like clay for a moment, rearranging into someone else recognizable. Short dark hair lengthened, and the color lightened before turning golden. And not just goldilocks gold, a royal gold color that she'd seen only on one other person.

Fiona stood there, looking smug while Not-Theo writhed in panic, and he gnashed his teeth at her.

A few seconds later, they all stared at someone else entirely, screaming in frustration. Everyone was in shock as Fiona's theory finally panned out. "Oh man, this is the greatest magical superpower of all time!" Fiona beamed. She would jump for joy, but her not-girlfriend Varith still hadn't put away the weaponry or nasty violet energy ability. and he was quite livid to recognize who their shapeshifting mystery was.

"Fiona, I'll say this once. Just because you were right, doesn't mean you're not utterly insane at times," Greg said, his brow twitching at the reveal.

Glados had been there the whole time.

"How did you know?!" Glados screamed, writhing at the energy bindings holding her in place. "You stupid ginger elf, do you know what you've done?"

"Sure I do," Fiona laughed, and leaned in, grinning from ear to ear. "Betelgeuse, bitch."