Thinking that you are safe leads to complacency. It makes you lazy and blind. Thinking you are safe is stupid. I know this. I know this better than most. WTF, Max?

The wards were still clanging and banging, even though the threat had been neutralized quicker than expected. All of the redundant fail safes, both magical and technological, worked marvelously. Flawlessly. Perfectly. Before she had even dropped her dinner fork and sprinted toward the door, the threat had already been neutralized.

Max was still shaken. She knew she shouldn't have been. Everything worked. They were safe. The mound was still a fortress. She had purposely set up her fast travel system to capture and not purge any trespassers who could be dumb enough to use it if they brute-forced their way through the aversion spells, just like in this scenario, so she would know who she was dealing with.

Flawless. No reason to be shaken. Everything is as planned.

She rushed to the forest door that led to her grove's fast travel point. It took minutes to get there because she had this one rather distant from all of the occupied areas for safety, and had it warded and trapped for all not in possession of a Miles blessing. Outside of the tree circle, Cyrus was numbly staring at a floating, unconscious man, suspended a meter off of the ground. Miles jumped from the ground to Cyrus's shoulder and waved his arms around in his "I'm soothing a fleshbag" motion.

"Cyrus. What happened? Are you okay?" Max walked up to Cyrus and patted him awkwardly on the back.

"I'm shining-marked. He shouldn't have followed me." Cyrus turned from the sleeping man floating in the trap and blankly looked at Max. "I don't know why he was following me. I lead him here. Is it okay? Is he going to kill us all?" They were all expected questions, but Cyrus's affect was so flat that Max, and Miles, were both jolted to pat or wave at him faster.

"Do you know who that is?" Miles asked him.

"It's a blood drinker. An elder, by how fast he moved. But he should have ignored me. Did I do wrong leading him here? I was just scared once I noticed he was stalking me."

"No. I've got him. I'll take care of him, don't worry."

A chittering sounded from Cyrus's bag.

"Oh. I got you fox kits, Lady. Freshly-weaned." Cyrus reached into his bag and pulled out a kit by the scruff of its neck. He grinned like he just heard the best-ever joke and beamed with self-satisfaction. The change from absolute blankness to overwhelming joy was startling. Max thought that all the dark elves were great, but Cyrus's smile alone could break up cloud cover.

She smiled back at him, but her brows remained low. "Good job, Cyrus. Go find the perfect place for them while I handle this. You did the exact right thing. This place, our court, will always be safe for you. No matter who or what chases you back."

He nodded and held the kit, who was chewing on his fingers in a way that could not have felt good, close to his chest. "Okay, Lady. Will it be okay?"

"You did excellently." Max patted him again. It was still awkward. "All will be well."

"Okay." He turned and walked away and Miles jumped down off of his retreating shoulder, to land in the grass right beside the trap the invader was floating in.

Max turned her attention to the intruder. She took in the basic details and did some quick calculations. "Miles, can you make sure he doesn't wake up? Not like, in the 'oh, no, he exploded and now he's dead' way, but can you supervise the stasis spell until I get a cell set up? I want to question him." Max glared at the fuckhead in her demesne. "Do you know anything about vampires that's concrete?"

"Yes. Good. And no."

"Okay. Give me an hour and we can stash this fucker."

***

The following morning, Max was in her forge, pouring molten hot null metal into a mold that would be the outer cover of Hugo's cybernetic thigh, while walking herself through an outline of what she and Miles were considering “The Big Plan”.

The Plan™️ always started small and inevitably spiraled out of control-- into her potentially generating her own flags and causing problems for herself, her court, and the world at large. She had disregarded most ideas in favor of keeping the peace. Staying small. Being quiet. Remaining hidden. In the past few quiet weeks of tranquility, this seemed like a good idea.

Her people were settling in nicely. The Court was, so far, harmonious in the shared goal of child-rearing, magic learning, and licking the wounds they all had accumulated while having the universe torture them, all in different ways, but ultimately to the same end. The elves had their mana wells kindled and were experiencing learning magic for the first time in eons, in defiance of some long-forgotten, vengeful god. Her kids were learning who they were as people without the threat of tyrannical child abusers, fucked up pack dynamics, or slavery hanging over them. She devoted most of her time to tinkering and brewing, crafting, and daydreaming. Miles floated between them all as the social glue.

It had been small moments of small blisses, without moments of crying in the dark or gasping for what was lost.

Today, however, she was on the precipice of choosing to go balls to the wall offensive defense --should she build towers that shot lasers at anyone not blessed and place them in set intervals in her demesne, ever-expanding outward?-- fuck the world and everyone in it that wasn’t hers, flags be damned. Trying to keep her, her court, and her new family relatively low-key seemed like a pipe dream after the infiltration last night, with the new guest forcibly asleep in the tower that she hastily threw together in the heart of her demesne and locked down with every trick, trap, ward, vow, and the most advanced cage she could imagine and produce in twelve hours.

She and Miles both were leaning more toward becoming more militarily bent, as the people and creatures of this world couldn't help themselves to not kick the hornet’s nest.

So be it.

Presently, Max was contemplating that with Hugo’s skills as an alleged sword savant and his historic abilities to lead an army, giving him the best-she-could-imagine cybernetic replacement limbs, when paired with Miles’s neural lace, and newly packed full of mana stones that could produce enough energy to cast world-rending spells, he would be a boon to himself, the mound, and her. He would reclaim the stolen pieces of himself, and she would have another Heavy -- but one of her own design. She still lacked an army for him to lead, but she was working on it. It was a few steps ahead in the newly aggressive Plan™️. Golems and bots were successful armies in some worlds, after all, and she still had literal tons of materials she robbed from Miles’s world and a huge fucking chip on her shoulder. As did the rest of her Court.

Max understood now why on all the other runs she had when she came across other now-suspected "eternal" species, they were both highly militant and insular. She understood now why everyone who breached their borders never returned. It was the most gross violation she had experienced while in this world. Almost in any world where she didn't end up as a flesh slave.

Being "safe" and then having the illusion ripped away had made her and her entire court almost rabid.

Of course, Hugo was a small component of her plans focusing on defense, but she could see how if the mood struck her and she ended up pivoting to villainy, she could set the elf man up as an endgame boss in world domination-- especially if she taught him a wide swath of war spells. Advanced tech, war mage abilities, and best in a world’s (even if that world was defeated, but let's be real, ender beasts were next level) combat abilities would make Hugo a monster she was happy to create, as long as the side he was fighting on was hers. After some initial questioning, she knew he would be happy to oblige, considering all peoples of this world ate and slaughtered what remained of the family he thought he had saved by coming here.

He was pissed a vampire made it into the demesne, even if it was by design.

Ah, well. If the world eventually goes the way I fear and everyone attacks us en mass instead of small skirmishes or petty shittiness, and if I decide I don’t want to just end the world and start fresh, I'll need as many generals and monsters as I can gather as a deterrent. Better to overkill than under-kill.

So, base building and tower defense? Golem armies? Hmm.

She was just finishing the molten pour and thinking of the next step, both in crafting and in the Plan™️, when King Aren silently walked in. He paused inside of the door and his face went slack. He looked at her from crown to toe, paused for another moment, and a frustrated look clouded his face again.

You and me both, Buddy.

He cleared his throat and his face shuttered into a pleasant mask. "Good morning. You wanted to speak with me, my Lady?"

Max took off her gloves and tucked them into the belt of her smelting apron. "Yes. Give me a moment while I finish this up and I'll get our tea ready. We have things to discuss. Have a seat."

She and he had mostly avoided each other after the [Bargain], as he weirded her out by trying to sell himself to her as a kingly flesh slave, and her thoroughly rejecting him in a super awkward way. She also thought he was probably a little bit peeved that whenever he tried to flex his crown authority over anyone in the court, they turned to her for approval. So, it seemed as if she accidentally dethroned the last elf king by usurping the last dregs of his authority.

Tough shit, King.

Bruised egos, she was sure, were all the rage these days in courtly fashions. To be fair, there were seven elves left that were of age. Aren could suck it up. She was the one making the metaphysical mortgage payments around here.

He did the half smile half grimace of someone who was expecting an unpleasant conversation and sat at the table where she had her weeks-long-ago talk with her first scion. She smiled at the memory and hoped this one would be as productive. She racked her tools, washed her hands, and gathered the teapot and leaves she had stashed in her forge bench along with a plate of some sweet slices of bread that Beasty made for her late last night.

"How are you settling in? It's been weeks, and I have been remiss in not asking you directly. I get distracted by projects and time passes me by without me realizing it." Max poured first his and then her tea after she sat in the other chair. She offered him the plate of treats.

He sighed dreamily. "All big and small things aside, your demesne is a place that was made for our people. Our souls sing here.”

Max snorted. "Obviously. I am one of our people, and I made it for me." She shot the King a little grin and clinked her teacup to his.

He faintly smiled. "Just so." He breathed deeply. "What of the intruder?"

"That is being handled by me, Puppy, and Miles. You are here for another matter."

He gave her a brief look like she was being stupid. Then he looked at the poured tea and swallowed his opinions on the topic.

Good boy.

She gave him a few moments to enjoy the tea and treats. She drank lightly and gathered her thoughts while looking him over. He, and the other three adult light elves, seemed to be relaxing and recovering more and more every day. Cora was almost all the way recovered from their centuries-long ordeal. Ines seemed to just be a baseline bitch-- which was alright in Max’s book-- but looked less and less as if she was expecting to die every day anymore. Hugo was looking forward to her cyborg enhancements and seemed as though he was thirsty to be fully mobile again. The stress they all carried on their shoulders seemed less heavy and the bags under their eyes looked less dark by the day. Overall, they were on the mend.

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They had hope again. That was good. Now to kindle that hope into more.

Just as he had relaxed as fully as he would allow himself in her presence, she started her pitch.

"I know it's not obvious, but I've spent the majority of my time thinking about the future. About how we can build the Court and the House into an initial sanctuary, but ultimately an unassailable bastion. And the roles we may play as our population grows. I know it probably won't happen for a bit, but someday our mound's children will have children and those will have children. Nine adults, ten if we're counting Miles, is nowhere to start a nation from, but before we know it, those nine will be a dozen. When we inevitably decide to couple or more up and make more people, we will have two dozen. When the children turn into adults, they'll make another. And then those made will make another. We will probably also gather other outcasts and dispossessed to our banner as well.”

He nodded with questions in his eyes, but she had to get her ideas out before he asked them.

Max continued, “I want our court to have as much safety and security as they can. Although half of the current children slept through the worst of it, this world has not been kind to any of them. My kids ran to me, away from the worst depravities a modern society could generate. If we find others in the same situation, Miles will not hesitate to intervene. And I will, of course, let him. And then we will be more.” She picked up a spoon to stir her tea. “That said, I'd like to give us all as many advantages and defenses as we can muster. Magic is one, and we're working on that as a people. Technology is another. Miles and I are going to start teaching the kids the basics and round out their educations. That said, there are other advantages and weapons that we could pursue, that we can lay out at this new beginning of what we have, at the birth of our Court, and we can grow from there. And when I say ‘our people’, I refer to the court. The court always comes first, species --elf or non-elf-- is several considerations down the list of priorities. 'We' means us. All of us. I hope you can agree."

Aren smiled. "That sounds like a goal to strive for." He leaned an arm on the table. "What were you thinking when you say other advantages?"

Max put the spoon down on the table and raised her teacup to her chin with both hands, then raised one of her eyebrows and asked him directly, "How much experience do you have in mercantilism?"

He gave her a perplexed look. "On our world, centuries of experience. Thrones, armies, and courts only ran as well as the coin purse could collect. Here? Very little. Everyone wanted to kill us, drain us of mana, sacrifice us, or eat us. The only peoples on the planet that did not outright genocide us are the ones in the sea-- and they have no use for those who are finless and landwalking. We survived as the last few only because we stopped interacting with the rest of the world."

She placed her teacup onto the saucer and picked up a sweet. "If you were given the tools to build an online trading empire and the safety to do it, how long do you think it would take to establish ourselves? Low magic worlds do it all the time, and I think we could be successful starting a merchant family empire." She put it in her mouth.

"Hmm. Selling what?" He had a hunter’s focus about him.

She swallowed the treat and pointed toward the store. "All the stuff in the store that has yet to see a customer. Potions. Weapons. Spell books. Forbidden regular books that have been censored in the outside world. Spell cloth. Clothes. Anything we have a fancy to make that's hard to find out there. Anything that we can corner a niche clientele for. It should be a big one, as the baseline magic in this world has a much higher carrying capacity than is being utilized."

He took a minute to consider it. "You want to start a marketplace on the internet selling 'exclusive elf-wrought goods' and start a magical resurgence of users.”

Max grinned like a devil. "Fae, as they are seen as the bigger threat and have established rights. But. Yes. I want to close the physical store to set up market supremacy on all of our magic goods and teaching instruments in this high magic realm with few magic users." She considered her words and continued, "Not only have they offered insult, but the Mage's College has all the human-made stuff monopolized. They have practitioners regulated. I’m also pretty sure they are the reason we’ve been blockaded. And for anyone else who could offer them competition, the College has either strong-armed them into submission, or they have intimidated them into silence. I'm still pissed that one of theirs came into my mound with the mind to do the same to me after being rude and aggressive to Puppy, to be honest."

Fucking Milton.

Max got back on track to selling her idea. "But they are disregarding and underutilizing their online potential, and with Miles and Beasty quickly establishing dominance online, that ship has sailed. Also, historically, trying to put a stranglehold on magic is like trying to tame the wind. You can't. No one can for very long without having an eventual rogue practitioner problem, that quickly turns into necromancy and demon summoning, only because people aren't being taught the right way."

She remembered all the quests she had done to clear out the exact same thing she was about to initiate. Free-range casters always tweaked the noses of the ones in power.

Oh, well. I'm generating my very own, very obvious flags now and I do not even give the slightest of fucks. They should have stayed the fuck away. Bring it, people of Dirt.

She kept talking while he contemplated. "If we did it solely online, kept all manufacturing in the mound, made it not obvious that the two are tied together, and marketed under a different and unknown brand name, we can establish from the gate that we are not offering human-made goods, so we have diplomatic immunity to any prohibitions they can dream up. They never bothered [Bargain]ing with me on rules or etiquette -- even after stumbling upon my actual mound and surrendering deniability that I exist-- so I’m not hindered in doing it. Let our ‘King of the Fae’ be the diplomatic shield from them while we swoop in and pick their pockets."

Max was quite irritated with Green, as he had been mostly quiet after the ‘beg me’ incident, and so she was planting a big fae trick bomb in his lap for making her heart feel used in a political game. And she was trying her best to unstep on Aren’s toes.

Max picked her cup back up but focused on the deposed king. "Instead of being the King of the Elves, you could be Aren, Mercant Head of the House of Max and secret financier of a magic revolution. I want the ones who sit at the table of the Conclave to hurt, simply because they refused succor to refugees in need and offered insult to me. I want them to rue the day they sat on their hands and did nothing.” Max gave Aren a moment to consider it with a filthy, evil grin on her face. Her face cleared and she clarified, “After this is set in motion, I want to be as hands-off as possible. The court will provide merchandise but the management and decisions would be up to you. I just ask that you run the items you’re selling by me first. Consider me an investor, not a partner. Miles and Beasty will decide how much they want to contribute on their own.”

She continued, “I'm willing to smack some lower enchantments on a few weapons to make them stupidly expensive and highly sought after. Of course, I want to keep the good stuff for the court, but there are always the low-level practice pieces the learners make that we can offload for a lot of money. We can auction the worst once a quarter and build up hype and a brand. We have a stockpile of potions that the world sees half the quality of once every few years. I want to sell the low-quality ones in bulk for a king's ransom, preferably to the College. If they don't bite, I want them to go to hospitals at a highly discounted rate. I want to either price gouge the College or make them a less valuable ally to the public." She set her cup back in the saucer and grabbed another piece of bread. He did, too. "Also, Cora's weaving abilities are astounding and a couple of the children are learning fast. We can market that, too. Maybe start a clothing brand with small enchants for the bourgeoisie and clean them out, too."

He knocked a knuckle on the table and his eyes were far away while considering action. He got a pleased grin. "Hmm. My first fae trick and it’s not even on me, but by me and on the College and well-to-do humans that spilled my people’s blood either by direct action or inaction.” His look focused on her. His grin was gone. “It would take starting capital. A base of operations. I'd have to set up a supply chain to a distribution site -- we couldn't do it from here. That would make a hole in our physical security. We would need Miles to make our online presence unassailable.”

"I thought of that, and want to run this tidbit by you... The actual warehouse part of the 'greenhouse' that is seen from the street is a decoy. Once I realized that the mound could get attacked if my demesne was defined by the borders of the warehouse, I uncoupled it all. All of my demesne is now in a pocket realm except for the anchor, and the anchor has been spelled and warded to be nigh-indestructible," Max picked up her mug again and took a sip. Just a casual conversation between two people plotting open revolt and a paradigm shift. Nothing to see here. "I could set up another warded and trapped door in the shop that goes to the warehouse, drop confounding spells in the neighborhood so our shipping trucks can’t be tracked, and I already own everything within the surrounding five blocks under an umbrella corporation. Moving manufactured products from the demesne to the warehouse would be simple and I could set it up to be automated within a week. As for physical security, should anyone be idiot enough to attack right outside of the front door of our mound— that we have full defensive measures and home advantage over— I pity what we can bring to bear on them. Even in its current unused state, I have the warehouse trapped and warded to the high and low hells so we won't be visited again by any variation of thugs that have a pungent enough entrepreneurial spirit."

"So we already have a secure distribution space?"

"Yup."

"You're still talking about a massive capital investment. Marketing and manpower. Distribution. How much can you invest?"

She grinned.

"Miles and I have a few million credits we can comfortably play with. Beasty can be in charge of the online presence— the online store was her idea and she has a homepage and catalog built and ready for beta testing. But to be frank… This isn't really about the money. Our mound is already rich, and if we were to be bankrupted tomorrow, all it would take is an hour or so to recoup it all. This venture is a little about laundering the money we already have, a little about fucking with the College, but mostly establishing a notable and powerful mercantile house that would make potential allies and enemies pause and reconsider should they toy with the idea of attacking or allying against us, either in the marketplace or the battlefield."

He grinned. "So, we're going for intimidation through commerce?"

Max raised her teacup in a toasting gesture. "Just so. I have some plans for intimidation through good old-fashioned intimidation as well. But this part of the plan I can delegate to you, so you can flank any who would come as us from this direction and I can focus elsewhere.”

Aren chuckled. "I like it."

"I thought you might."

"Let me put some numbers together and a list of things we need to set into motion, and I'll get back to you, and I'm guessing, Miles and Lady Beasty."

"Miles is the better half of our duo. I leave this in you three’s care to run with.” Aren stood from the table to start his financial conquest of Central City and beyond through magical tchotchkes and low-level knick-knacks.

“If you're headed her way, could you send Ines to me?"

"Ines?" He stopped and paused. Turned around and looked pensive. "Has she... did she do anything...?"

"No, I just wanted to touch base with her, too. Hand her her own project. Nothing big."

"Yes, my Lady. I'll send her back." He left with a pep in his step that he didn't have when he walked in.

****

Ines was a tough one. A bit of an asshole. A bit of a bigot, if Max was guessing right. Mostly, just a fish out of water. Max could relate to the last.

Max was guessing Ines would be less of all of that if she had her own role-- her own specialty that was just hers, that she cemented as an integral part of the court. And Max would provide.

"You wanted to see me, my Lady?" Ines sneered at Max.

Max just grinned. "Yeah, have a seat. Do you want some tea? Or do you want me to get to the point?"

Ines sat down but waved a decline on the offer of tea. "Are you reprimanding me for something, or is this a social call?"

She shrugged. "Neither. I was gonna tell you that you're kind of an asshole and then give you a promotion."

"Oh."

Max refilled her tea cup and pulled out a watch. Time was ticking and she had hoped her last conversation had been faster. It was a good planning session, it just wasn't as fast as she had hoped. "Yeah. So, you want a promotion? You're wasted as a doorkeeper, to be honest."

"And why would you think that? I spent centuries guarding a palace and then a few more guarding a king. Guarding a door to a fairy house is more or less the same thing."

"Okay, wow. Lots to unpack there. Don't call me a fairy and I won't show you just how outclassed you are. And guarding the door to the last of your people is kinda important, you know?" Max paused and realized Ines was just wanting to get a rise out of her. "But that's beside the point. I wanted to talk to you about security. The store is about to close. We're moving to a wholesale model and declaring economic war on Central City."

"Well, fuck. That's good for you movers and shakers, but what am I going to do if not waste my time in a shop with no sales?" Ines grinned at Max, and Max started to understand the raging bitch that was Ines. She was a contrarian. It was a coping mechanism.

I get that.

"You're going to run security for the empire your king is about to launch."

"Oh." Ines blanked her face.

"Yeah."

Ines's face became more hopeful. "So, guard captain?"

"More like Chief of Security. You report to Aren instead of me now, although I will give you a rundown of what I have currently set up. I take suggestions and offer knowledge so you can eventually do it on your own."

"Do I get a pay raise?" She raised an eyebrow at Max and Max did all she could to keep a straight face.

"That's up to him. I don't care either way."

Ines nodded. "I'm going to tell him you said yes. And also, I get to go through the armory for a pick of the weapons."

Max grinned and decided she'd recommend triple the pay. "What are you even spending money on? We are a pretty closed economy here."

"Maybe I've declared economic insurgency on your economic war." Ines shrugged. "The coffee shop next door is good."

"That's fine. As long as you guard all the doors in the warehouse and secure the business, and not just the one door."

Ines nodded and stood to leave. "I can do that, godling."

----------------------------------------

Aldred didn't remember anything after chasing the weird-smelling but polite elf. He knew he saw a druid circle, and knew he decided to follow the elf in. And then nothing. With his eyes still closed, he checked his fingers and toes. All of his limbs were fine. His head ached, but it wasn't anything to worry over.

He cracked open an eye, expecting to get answers, but only received more worrisome questions.