This is fine. This is totally fine. My ex-fiancée is being released from jail. A woman who has a whole slew of issues, and a mark that turns her into a wrecking ball more destructive than me.

Fiona couldn't will her leg to stop tapping while she sat in the visiting room of the penitentiary. This must be the same feeling her mom got when she was suspended from school. All for punching a boy who 'accidentally' ran into her on the playground. Waiting in the principal's office must have been a huge drag.

This is not fine. Who am I kidding? Her foot tapping rate increased.

Bonnie tapped one of her long ears, jolting Fiona out of her semi-trance, staring at the floor. "Oy, those are sensitive," she grumbled.

"And your boot is going to wear a hole in the floor," Bonnie replied, her own ears bending as a sly smile crossed her muzzle. "Relax. It's going to be fine."

"Oh, there's nothing 'fine' about this," Doug grumbled on Fiona's other side. "I mean, really. We hadn't considered that another god or goddess sent Bianca here as a deterrent? That she was guided down a path of wanton destruction, and that she mostly lived up to expectation? Just not in the way we thought."

"Douglas? This is the part where we tell Fiona that it's going to be alright, in the long term," Bonnie growled softly. The kobold remained unintimidated. "Also, let's not talk about this right here in public."

"Agreed." Fiona folded her arms, her ears pressed tight against her head.

They even had some tacky waiting room music emanating from a speaker nearby, and it did nothing to soothe her anxiety. "Greg, was this a…thing, for you, growing up?"

Greg shook his head at her inquiry. "No. My father was pulled into the guard garrisons for 'questioning' on numerous occasions. It never got past that point." He didn't elaborate further.

Darla peered around the room and let out a huff. "You know the weird part in Underlune? I don't think we had nearly this level of fortification in a building. Usually, most of our populace blew off steam in the fighting ring. Closely monitored, of course. Our crime rate is almost nonexistent. Plus, I guess the fear of getting exiled to the depths where big scary monsters roam is a good deterrent. We don't need a prison when we have that."

"Sounds like my old line of work; beating up monsters for pay would be in high demand there," Fiona commented, drawing an emergent smile from the darkling.

"Oh, there are worse things down there than spiders, giant moles, megapedes. We have Scinthian ravagers. They're giant demonic killing machines; fast, deadly, and tough to take down. The blades on their forearms put my kitchenware to shame."

"Miss Swiftheart?" a woman with straight black hair called politely from the desk. She presented her with a stack of papers on a clipboard. "I need you to fill these out, for record-keeping purposes."

"I filled out the papers already. There's more?" She couldn't believe that letting a former head of a hostile state go required so much paperwork. She took the papers in hand and got to work, filling out boxes and forms. Some questions she thought were a joke. Some were just...awful.

Do you have a residence in a safe location with adequate access to utilities?

Have you previously been convicted of a felony?

Does the parolee being released have a history of violence, paranoia, medical issues, or traumatic life moments?

Is the parolee a transmigrator? (If so, specify origin world, species, magical system, and local customs that may not align with Fiefdala)

Does the parolee have any allergies, physical or mental disabilities that may interfere with parole conditions?

Fiona glared at the checkboxes and short questions, filled them out one at a time. She knew that Rikkard was giving Bianca a clean slate, but he also wanted these written down 'for formality' sake.

Each line she filled out only increased her dread. I can't do this. I can't help her get her life together when I can barely keep my own in one piece. The pen was a blur of scribbles as she went through page after page. Her brain said no, but her will said yes.

She had to do this. If she didn't, she'd never forgive herself for it. We were going to get married. It would have been a lovely fall day. September 25th. We even picked out a nice place for it.

Shit shit shit, I can feel the old thoughts resurfacing. I can't ever go back down the route we were on; I closed that door. I closed it so I could--

"Fi, do you…" Doug's soft words disrupted her unfolding mental train wreck, and she looked at him, big kobold eyes edged with concern. Her writing hand had been shaking. "Want me to fill it out, and you can just tell me?"

She looked down and saw her barely legible mess of words on the last line. She'd been holding her breath while she was stewing, and let out a calming exhale. "No. But, thank you."

She waved away an errant tangle of red hair from her face and finished writing. She stood up to give the papers to the attendant.

"Great. Here's another set," the woman said with a smile. "I know, this is a long process, you're doing great!"

Fiona's elven smile did little to mask her anxiety. As soon as she turned to walk back to her seat, her face slipped into horror, clasping the stack of papers to her chest.

I am not doing great. Wingding, I need magic powers that soothe the mind–mine and others. That's a great superpower we should look for.

[You care about her. More strength than you realize.]

Hearing that from her mostly silent companion let her exhale her anxiety in one long breath, and she sat down between Bonnie and Doug again, both of them exchanging glances.

"Fi, you know…you're not going to be alone in this." Bonnie rested one paw on her shoulder firmly, and she smiled politely.

"I know. This is definitely a first for me, though."

Greg broke out into a soft chuckle. "Fi, you've been training for this ever since you opened the store. Despite my reservations about some of our hires…or our new business associate," he added with a nod to Doug, "You're good at reading people. You see the measure of a person where other people might be initially dismissive."

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"And somewhat more stable than when I met her," Bonnie grinned. "Let's get this wrapped up, shall we?"

One more mountain of paperwork later, that irked even the steadfast Greg, and they were done. Fiona handed in forms, just as a new guard came in through a side door, waving to them. "Miss Swiftheart, they'll see you in departure. Please follow me."

Her footsteps felt like a trudge through sticky mud. But with her friends there beside her, she knew she could do this.

They had to wait another twenty minutes in another waiting room. By then, Fiona was getting tired of waiting, imagining awful scenarios, such as Bianca being wheeled out in a straightjacket, strapped to a gurney, with a muzzle on her face like she was a cannibalistic serial killer.

Fortunately, that was not the case. It was almost anticlimactic when the double doors opened, and Fiona felt the oxygen leave the room when Bianca walked in, wearing regular clothes. Her blue-grey eyes no longer seemed dimmed. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail, and a faint smile emerged when she saw her. "Been a while, stranger."

"Not that long. Only…a week," she admitted. "I got dragged into another round of kingdom political intrigue crap. Let's just say it's…tied to this."

"It's like she can't stay out of the spotlight," Bonnie mused, a finger to her muzzle. "Did they tell you the arrangements?"

The young guard they'd met on the first trip pulled out his arcane datapad, and skimmed through it. "Clean bill of criminal wrongdoing, on account of magical shenanigans, and undue influence from hostile state actors on behalf of Aegortin and Vale? Yes. Regular check-ins with an arcanist healer and a strict regimen of requirements that are designed to ease her into life here? Also yes. Sign here, please."

If Fiona had to sign one more damn form to get Bianca back into her life and salvage her well-being, she might put a hole through this building. She signed quickly, and the detention worker nodded satisfactorily. "Thank you. There will be additional check-ins. Miss Bianca Hadaway? You're a free woman, and if you need help…don't hesitate to ask, alright?"

"Thank you, Edwin. I appreciate that." Bianca's first act as a free woman was to reach out and hug Fiona gently. "Thank you, hon. I didn't believe it was going to really happen, right until the moment I saw you on the other side of the door."

She placed a hand steadily at the small of her back. "Likewise. Bianca, I'd like you to meet my friends--well, formally this time. They'll either be staying at my place for a bit, or you'll meet them in the shop. Greg, Bonnie, Doug, Darla, say hi?"

Each of them waved and shook hands with Bianca in turn. She felt a twinge in her heart when Bianca let out a sniffle. Just one. She'd been bottling that up for a while.

"Might want to bundle up. It's quite brisk here in Fiefdala during the winter," Greg offered. Bonnie pulled out an extra coat from her dimensional satchel, a dark grey button coat lined with plush down and quite warm. Bianca took it graciously and secured it tightly.

"So…we could go back to the apartment," Fiona proposed. "Or–"

"Fi…I want to see what you built for yourself and your friends." Bianca's voice grew firm, more confident. "I want to see that everything you and I did wasn't for waste."

Fiona smiled politely, even as she felt the threat of tears building.. "Darling, I don't think you're going to be disappointed. C'mon, guys, we'll give her a quick tour."

"I'm all for that," Doug affirmed, bowing slightly. "Let's make it a quick walk, yes? I don't want to be a frozen kobold by the time we get there."

"Wow."

Bianca's eyes lit up as they entered through the shop, the arcane lights hanging from the ceiling slowly winking to life and casting a sunny light across the shop floor. She didn't quite know where to start; she wandered like a kid across to the cashier, to Bonnie's workstation, her fingers running across the counters gently.

Fiona remembered that smile. That warm smile that even the sadness couldn't break, on the best days. Bianca wandered to the art section, letting out a sound of delight. "My goodness. Fi…all this was in Douglas's collection? You told me a little about this, but…"

Doug gave a wave to one of the animated paintings. The canvas depicted a boat sailing across an infinite sea, the sail rippling under the influence of a perpetual wind. Fiona swore she could almost feel a warm ocean breeze emanating from the painting. "This one is by Lavarti. This is actually a new addition to the store. Some of our paintings are on display at the Fiefdalian Central Museum on loan. Apparently, the La'teur collection there has increased their foot traffic by a good thirty percent."

Bianca's fingers traced across the cordon keeping the paintings from touch range, and her other hand swayed back gently, as if holding an invisible paintbrush. "Are they all…enchanted like this? When I was in Vale, I…I think I forgot the feel of creation. They didn't have as much art there. At least, where I was."

"Some. Others are mundane, but no less special. I would say that a skilled hand makes it much more special," Doug commented, looking calm and poised.

"We also have the magical workshop for me," Bonnie pointed out. "I've been doing some work on the side, when I haven't been doing enchanting work. Tiny here is getting tired of the nickname, and we need to de-shrinkify him."

"Oh? Is that at his insistence? Or Fiona's?" Bianca let a sly smile creep across her face.

"A mix of all of us, actually," Fiona corrected. "Totally not for my personal reasons of having a dragon to fly over the morning traffic!" Having to justify that statement felt weird to say.

"We all met under unusual circumstances." Greg, ever the cordial one, waved a hand to the store in general. "It took quite a bit of work to get here. And, some trial and error along the way. But, I think we've done well for ourselves. Now we're importing items from abroad to extend the commercial influence of Fiefdala. A lot of adventurers frequent the store…but we also carry dedicated goods of other nature. Each of us sorta specializes in a particular area of expertise."

"I met Fiona with a mouth stuffed with sweet rolls like she was starving," Bonnie chimed in with a warm tone. "Possibly one of the stranger ways I've met a new friend."

Bianca let out a boisterous laugh. "Hah! You always had a thing for sweets, Fi! This life or the last! I'm glad that not everything changed about you." She tilted her head to the side. "How on Earth did this goddess give you long ears and a height boost? And rosy hair?"

"I don't know, Bianca. It certainly wasn't something I was thinking about when I got here. And, some other parts of me changed. Maybe for the better." Don't cry, don't cry, not here, not in front of everyone.

[Waterworks imminent.]

Fiona let out a laugh that brought out a single misty tear that she wiped away. "Sorry, it's just…I didn't think this would hit me this hard."

"Fi…I look at this place, the people you're with…I can tell in two seconds you've done well for yourselves." Bianca pointed at Darla, who raised a brow in surprise. "Does she still have that manic energy after the first and second cup of coffee in the morning? I couldn't push her out of bed with a bulldozer until I got her caffeinated in the morning!"

Fiona felt a little put on the spot when a leering smile crossed Darla's face, and her tail swayed back and forth like it did when she was amused. "I was tempted to put a warning sign on the front door. 'Do not engage the elf if she has coffee in hand.' That improvement proposal got shot down, three to two."

"Uh huh." Bianca crossed her arms, smiling proudly, pointing to Greg next. "Is she still a shopaholic?"

Greg sighed softly. "That one took a little effort. Don't give me the dirty look, Fi. It's true, you struggled a bit." She didn't like that betrayal at all and stuck her tongue out at him. "Very mature, indeed."

"Hey, I still hit up the bargain bins for hidden treasure! You'd be amazed at the things I can find for cheap!" She felt her cheeks grow heated. Bianca was quizzing all her friends, now? She could do with way less of the spotlight. "S-so…what do you think?"

"I love it, Fi. But you've also coasted through here so far. Have you given thought to when things get tight?" Bianca asked, a more serious tone to her voice.

"I have. I didn't want a repeat of mistakes from the past. Greg has been good at managing the financial side, and I do a double check. We've been setting aside money ever since I got free and clear of Barry's dirty tricks. That plan backfired on him, royally."

"You always had a way of beating odds, Fi." Bianca took a deep breath, then glanced at the dining tables. "My goodness…you know…it's almost laid out like our store."

"It…it was a good layout." Fiona felt a wave of nostalgia hit, remembering the aisle layout, the paintings, and the last-minute items she put strategically in front of the cash register. "Bianca…I did talk with the others. We've been expanding some, considering the attention the place has been getting. We're only marginal right now because we've been building for the future. I know one of the conditions for your release–"

"Where can I sign up? Because I'll do whatever it takes not to fall down that deep well that is Varith. Or at least, make him a little more sociable." Fiona was surprised she was so ready to jump on board, and she let out a small giggle.

"We can get you started at the beginning of the week. I have a few departments that we don't have expertise in. It's not gonna be all glamorous though. It's just a shop."

Bianca let out a contented sigh. "With you around, Fi? It's never just a mundane day. I think that's what I missed about you the most."

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