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

True to Darla's word, her dimensional kitchen lived up to its namesake, and soon the apartment was filled with the additional scent of seared smoky meats and an additional batch of French toast, once Darla dove into the recipe.

What amazed Fiona was how quickly she picked up on it. Breakfast soon became an enthusiastic discussion of the snowfall and a time to relax, for once.

Arrangements for how things would go with Bianca next week did come up. Fiona found herself speaking quieter than normal during the discussion, with Bonnie dropping a bombshell line.

"Fiona, maybe we should consider moving in here for a while." Fiona looked at Bonnie, hands folded neatly in her lap. "I don't know if you should handle this alone."

"Bonnie–"

The kitsune leaned in, speaking quietly "I want to lay out why. It's not that I don't get your intentions, I really do. It's that… have you ever considered that your judgement might be clouded on her?"

Fiona considered Bonnie, wondering why she might be offering to do so. Her half-canted ears indicated her worry. She saw a subtle nod from Greg, and Darla was also leaning in, wearing a more reserved expression.

"I know her best," Fiona said softly.

Bonnie shook her head. "You do. We don't. And Varith–if she changes back to him–will there be a continuity in her consciousness? I've never heard of a magic effect like this before that isn't extremely uncommon. The best way to handle it is to find out what makes her mark work."

"You're treating her like she's…diseased," she heard the worry in the normally bouncy kitsune–something very unlike her.

"That's not what I'm saying. If we are to assume that Varith is a result of the mark, studying it, or, if we can, removing it, that might be the best option."

"Like a tumor?" Fiona asked acidly. "I hate saying this, but what if Varith is an entirely different person? An entirely different consciousness? If we separate them, and if he ceases to be…"

"Darling? That maniac tried to kill you. Try to keep that in mind. He would not be missed if that were the case," Darla offered with a sigh. "That said, I think Bonnie's got the right idea. We study. And we're up front about it. Not secretly observing her. That could blow back in our face."

"Would Glados know more?" Greg proposed, all while casually taking a piece of bacon. "She spent time interacting with them."

"No, I don't think so. Bianca and Glados both indicated she wasn't present when Bianca crash-landed. Let's not give that maniac any lifelines," Fiona countered softly.

She hoped Glados didn't have any leverage. At least with Barry out of the picture, she couldn't pull strings in the palace anymore. At the Adventurer's guild detention center, she was guarded by people Fiona trusted, far more than the palace.

"But, Glados also knows how to uncurse Doug," she concluded. "We might have to concede that one."

Bonnie shook her head. "Nah, I can crack that one. I think it's a transfiguration enchantment mixture. Shrunk him down to kobold size, but she couldn't completely remove his natural transformation magic. Which means she just locked it out."

"You seem well-rehearsed in her method. Why?" Doug asked with a pointed observation.

"Well, full disclosure? Before she became a backstabbing creep, I worked with her in classes. She always specialized in illusions, transfiguration, or enchantments that made people ignore her. She was good at that one," Bonnie admitted.

"But, she wasn't as good as I at enchantments. I started surpassing her. She got insanely jealous, stopped talking to me, and then…bam. Accusations of academic fraud which is a death sentence for a mage's career." Bonnie's teeth edged out a bit at that, before her confidence returned. "That said, she didn't fully succeed. And I know she does many things through deceit and trickery. Now, Doug, I think you mentioned to me before you tried to transform, and it didn't work?"

"I did try to transform back. It was…painful. To the point I never tried it again." Doug visibly flinched, as if the memory pained him. "There is one small minus to regaining my grandiose form, though."

"Oh?" What's that?" Bonnie inquired, eyes gleaning with interest.

"I'll have to rearrange the walking aisles at the shop. That'll be a pain. Not that we've had dragons come in, mind you, but I believe we're supposed to make access accommodations."

"Wait, crap, have we not been accommodating an underrepresented Folk species?" Fiona didn't mean to sound high-strung, but two cups of coffee inside half an hour weren't helping.

"Eh…maybe?" Greg put out his hands like he didn't know, either. "I have confidence in Bonnie that we won't have to rely on that deplorable woman. Either way, let's focus on the task at hand next week, since we're all on the same page. What do you think, Fi? I think having Bonnie on hand at your residence may be beneficial."

Fiona gave him a sly look. "I thought the magical fox girl was already bunking with someone. Someone stoic, professional, a good tether to normalcy."

"I'm sure this is a temporary arrangement, until Bianca has, shall we say, 'settled in.' I hope that'll be the case, depending on how this plays out." Greg sounded at least somewhat convinced that the outcome was on the horizon. "You do have the guest bedroom."

Fiona gave a sidelong glance at Doug. "It…might be…um…" She trailed off and furrowed her brow when Darla looked at the two of them, making a small kissy face. "Oh, don't say it, she-devil."

"Oh, I don't have to say a single thing," Darla purred, her tail swishing back slowly. "Bonnie, hope you don't mind sharing with a third."

The kitsune's response was to smile widely. "I wouldn't mind. Actually, where have you been staying, Doug?"

"MacMillies. It's a small inn on the outskirts. Good food for a decent price." Doug sipped from a cup of coffee, the hot liquid still steaming. Fiona watched this maneuver worriedly.

"That just came out of the pot, um…"

"Dragon," he answered with one word. "Unless it's on fire, it won't bother me."

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"You say that now, but when I introduce you to pizza, it'll be so hot, it burns the roof of your mouth. So worth it, though." Fiona relaxed a little bit. "Anyway, given the way the wind is blowing in the room…" she smiled proudly, "I'd love to have you here, Bonnie. It might be a bit crowded for a while, but as long as we keep the place clean, keep the noise dull, Granny is the best landlord I ever had."

"Might want to add a little soundproofing. Just some food for thought." Darla's gaze flickered to the master bedroom door, and Fiona nearly choked on her French toast, while Doug spitted a little coffee.

"I think," Fiona said between coughs, "that won't be necessary."

"Quite," Doug sputtered, before taking a tablecloth to clean up. Meanwhile, Bonnie and Greg did their best to suppress a laugh. "Alright, I'm gonna go change. Be back in a minute."

"A spare set of clothes? Sounds like you're halfway moved in," Darla said with amusement infused in her tone.

Doug flicked a claw backward before closing the bedroom door abruptly. Meanwhile, Fiona took a quick mental assessment. Doug did leave a small set of clothes in the drawer on the bottom right–

She groaned and put her head in her hands. The kobold was moved in, now. "You start humming any wedding songs, I'll take your horns, she devil."

"Take me by the horns?" Darla purred, flashing a mischievous smile when Fiona looked up. "My dear, I know that your knowledge of Cepalunean culture is still in progress, but that was quite a tempting offer."

It was even worse when Greg chuckled while the kitsune and the darkling let out a deep laugh.

Lunesday rolled around far too quickly for her liking, and Fiona was still exhausted, despite the day off. It was lunchtime and the crowd had thinned a bit, giving her time to run through inventory.

And yet, internally, she kept a different inventory count.

He keeps a toothbrush in the bathroom. He helped do the laundry one time–even folded my lingerie–

She did the math again. Doug was basically the dragon boyfriend at this point. She found herself going through her breathing exercises and exhaling slowly. Are we going too fast? Are we even…uh…compatible, in that way? Does he have bad habits that annoy me?

…Why am I having this panic moment now?! Why not a week ago?!

A hand tapped on her shoulder gently, and she sprang upward, ready for a fight. Fortunately for her, it was just Kali, whose feathers stood on end, his blue eyes filled with anxiety.

"Uh, Fiona? I asked if you knew the count for the mana primers?" he asked in a timid voice. "How many, and should I call for a healer?"

"Six. And, we need to order more alchemist gel. That stuff moves so fast." She sighed, relaxing posture conveyed to Kali that all was well.

"Have you ever thought of switching to decaffeinated?" He proposed. "Purely out of concern for the twitchy reaction. Thank goodness you keep the hammer under the counter."

"I was a wee bit distracted, sorry." She glanced around, noting a pair of adventurers in armor, dining at the cafe. They were likely taking a break from daily training. An elderly man browsed the art section, with Doug already commenting on the local paintings slowly filling in the gaps as they made sales.

It gave her mixed feelings. Bianca had always insisted on the art and other handcrafted goods. She thought they'd just run the inventory out, but…strangely, Doug had taken an interest, commenting on landscape images from the local region and their historical significance.

Bianca's works always garnered attention. I miss her art. Will she still be able to do it?

The thought sent an icy chill down her spine. No. I can't go back down that path. I want to help her heal. And not put us in another toxic spiral.

"So, decaf?" Kali asked, raising a feathery brow.

"Decaf would make me murder people in the store," she grumbled. "Kali, have you given thought to a class?"

"Huh?"

"Have you considered what you want to be?" The shift in focus helped her move away from dwelling on the past. "I mean, what passion drives you?"

He rubbed at his feather crest for a few seconds, as if anxious about being put on the spot. "I mean…I can still work here, right?"

"Yeah! Of course! Actually, I think your three months are coming up. Time flies. Uh, pun not intended," she added as she stifled a laugh. He joined in a second later.

"You know something, it's been great. Certainly less boring than just sitting around and studying. I keep drifting back to inventory and logistics. I know that being an accountant or a quartermaster might not be as flashy as being a warrior or other similar classes. But it's a necessity in the modern era."

"Thousands of jobs where I came from. So many people specialized," she commented.

"Really? Hey, I got a question for curiosity, do you know how many classes existed at the onset of the marks?"

She puzzled over this one for a moment, a finger to her lips. "Uh…you know what? I have no idea."

"When the world was in survival mode, I read there were only a few dozen, like fighters, druids, mages, clerics of the varying living gods. Once that crisis was over? More classes emerged as the gods gave avenues for people to advance. Or maybe they saw our progress and gave us the magic and the abilities to fully realize them? It's a bit of a fowl or the egg kind of problem," he shrugged, and rolled his eyes when she let out a giggle. "Yes, I know."

"So, engineer, merchant, accountant…those all came later?"

"Way later," he answered, sliding his hand laterally for emphasis. "Legal scribe is recent, as an example."

"That's legalese for 'lawyer'. I hate lawyers," she growled. "A hundred gold coins an hour, it's absurd! Or whatever the equivalent is back on Earth. I keep trying to find a comparative, and not everything scales the same. Foods are pretty cheap! So are most arcanist goods. Manufactured goods seem to be more. Not as much automation in manufacturing, I'm thinking; a lot of things are still done manually, in small batches. But legal scribes…what power do they get?"

"They can read and write contracts that the administrators make. Honestly, reading contract law and understanding it? That's a power in and of itself."

Fiona couldn't disagree with that. Every contract she'd ever signed had so much dense text that she wondered if that was the point.

Kali waved his hand at the store. "The world's going to grow smaller, Fi. When we start growing kingdoms, you know who the most valuable people will be? The people who can coordinate hundreds of tons of goods to move at speed, with high reliability. They're going to be unsung heroes."

"I hope they don't all go to mass production," she sighed. "That's my experience of my world. We don't need to grow beyond scale. I have everything I could ever need in this city alone. But…maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part. I hope things here will stay the same."

He tapped his datapad gently, running a finger across a line of text. "Well, it's on my list. I only have two years to lock in a first class. I don't have to–"

"Ah, don't listen to me. Listen to your heart. If this is what you like doing…don't stop." She smiled proudly. "Maybe the world will grow a little smaller. Just make sure it doesn't get too crowded, yeah?"

"Not sure I understand…but okay." He set his datapad down on the counter. "What about you? You found your calling?"

"Yeah, I think I did. I have this weird mix between being a merchant and being a warrior. I don't think I'd change that, and barring an existential crisis, I don't think I'll be adding a mark sleeve on my arm," she added proudly.

[Plz don't crowd me. I need my space.]

Fiona glanced around and saw customers browsing the protective gear section, eyes darting around as if looking for customer service. "Alright, duty calls."

Stuff will change. But change isn't automatically bad. She waved to the woman browsing through protective garments to get her attention, when Doug coughed, intersecting her path.

"Doug, what's up? I got customers on–"

He put a finger to his snout, wild-eyed, and pointed to someone in a cloak, browsing by the starting adventurer equipment. An avian, with its bright white wings, and wearing simple traveling clothes. Doug tugged her behind the armoire of invincibility, the one item she still couldn't seem to sell to anyone. She kept hoping a fighter type in red armor would show up one day to take it off her hands.

"I think I know who that is," Doug uttered in a low tone.

Her ears tilted. "Doug, you're being kinda spooky." Nonetheless, she followed his cue and saw the woman's hand phase through someone's carrying satchel as if it were nothing but air.

Fiona was about to scream out 'thief', but all the woman took out was a small letter, unfolded it, glanced at it, then phased her feathered hand back into the satchel. A second later, her hand came back empty.

Fiona's eyes widened when she saw a familiar face as she turned to walk through the rows, with a short beak and bright blue eyes.

"Lani?!"

"Dragon crap," Doug uttered with a groan. "Pretty sure nothing good is going to come of this."