Every single shred of professional decorum had indeed left Toivonen's body. She sat there, head in her hands, struggling to process the surreal scene unfolding before her eyes. There, amid a high-security CIA facility, was her boss – the Director of the CIA himself, Mich O'Reilly – in a heated argument with a diminutive supernatural fairy.

"What do you mean I can’t own MY human!? He’s mine!" Yanaiyániuoa's voice, shrill and filled with indignation, cut through the room.

However, the Director glanced over towards his colleague from the State Department, an African American woman, by the name of Lisette Ford, who had been swiftly brought in to address this extraordinary, yet unexpected situation. She stepped forward with a demeanor that exuded experience and gravitas, ready to tackle the diplomatic challenge.

"Madam... Yanai... Yanaiyá...," the diplomat started, fumbling slightly over the pronunciation of the fairy's complex name.

"Just call her Yana," Elijah interjected casually.

"Yanaiyániuoa!" the fairy barked at him sharply, clearly irritated by his casual address. However, her newly found apostle simply rolled his eyes in response.

The diplomat, trying to regain her composure, continued, "Madam, I must explain that in our world, the concept of owning another person, especially a citizen, is not only legally unacceptable but also morally reprehensible. It's a fundamental violation of human rights."

She paused to let her words sink in before adding, "This is particularly true in the case of specialized military personnel like Mr. Drake here.” She looked towards Elijah who just sat there with an expression that said he was just done with the day already. ”They are protected by laws specific to their service and status. Owning or claiming ownership over them is not only illegal but also a matter of national security concern."

Lisette maintained a respectful tone, aiming to bridge the gap between their vastly different worlds and cultures. "It's imperative that we find a solution that respects both our laws and your unique circumstances. This requires understanding and cooperation from all parties involved."

O'Reilly nodded in agreement, while Yanaiyániuoa appeared to be in deep thought, possibly weighing the diplomat's words against her own understanding and expectations. The room held a tense silence as everyone awaited her response, hoping for a resolution to this unprecedented dilemma.

“That’s stupid.” The fairy then said as her wings fluttered in the air in agitation. "He’s my apostle, so belongs to me!"

Elijah let out a sigh as he rubbed his temples, when the argument came full circle to where they started. “Yana… shouldn’t you at least stop doing whatever it is you’re doing to that Elf?” He groaned, looking up at her with tired eyes. “It’s been hours.”

As the words echoed in the tense conference room, the little goddess snapped towards her human and opened her mouth to give him another verbal lashing, but paused just before a word came out. Her eyes flicked towards Yzael, and with an annoyed click of her tongue, she gestured towards the Elf and unraveled the spell that had ensnared Yzael's mind.

Yzael's reaction was immediate and visceral. She jolted as if waking from a deep, disorienting dream as her eyes widened in horror. Her gaze darted frantically around the room, trying to piece together her surroundings, and found she was in a strange room filled with an air of cautious vigilance. Soldiers lined the walls behind them with fear and determination as they held their weapons securely but not aggressively. Then her vision fell upon the strangers at the table other than Toivonen, the woman who Yzael thought was in charge.

A thought that turned out to be wrong considering her posture and the two authoritative figures standing before her.

Yanaiyániuoa, floating above the table, glowered at Elijah. "There, happy now!?" she barked before turning her head to Yzael “I’ll deal with YOU later!”

Still reeling from the aftermath of the soul control spell, Yzael could only nod weakly at the monstrous being and stay quiet as a strange negotiation took place. She instantly came to the conclusion that she was in an extremely precarious situation and the best course of action would just be to shut up and sit very still.

Just meld into her seat and hoped they’d forget she existed.

“She wants the Elf too.” Elijah casually blurted out, pointing a thumb toward Yzael.

Who in turn, stiffened like a board.

The Director, a man clearly accustomed to dealing with high-stakes and unusual circumstances, addressed Yanaiyániuoa with diplomatic tact, albeit frustrated. "Madam... 'goddess'," he began, deliberately avoiding her name due to its complexity, "you can't simply declare people to belong to you. It's not how things work here."

Yanaiyániuoa's response was as swift as it was sharp. She scanned the room with a theatrical sweep of her gaze, her expression of mock surprise. "Oh? Why not? Is there another goddess here? I don't see another goddess," she retorted, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Would you like to point me toward said deity?”

The small goddess' incomprehension of the human perspective was evident as she floated, and her aura radiated a sense of ancient authority that contrasted sharply with the modern, regulated environment of the conference room. "What is so difficult to understand?" she asked, her voice tinged with exasperation. "I am a deity, a true deity, not like those idiots who play at being gods and goddesses, leeching off systems that were never built for them. Claiming a mortal's soul is as natural for us as it is for mortals to claim food for nourishment."

“Think for a moment!” The fairy pointed at her head with both hands “How many times have you idiots tried to kill me! Did you dummies think I’m subject to your laws or… what did they call it?” She looked to her apostle.

“Human rights.” Elijah sighed.

“Ya, that! Did you think I was subject to your ‘human rights’ or whatever nonsense you came up with!?” She shouted in frustration.

A tense silence reigned as the atmosphere in the room began to shift when this diplomatic venture started to break down. The fairy was right. They had tried everything under the sun to kill her other than dropping a nuke on her, and every time she’d come back. She was, for all intensive purposes, immortal.

While everyone racked their brains to try and find a solution to this colossal problem, Toivonen had finally decided to speak up with a voice tinged with fatigue and sharp insight. "That's stupid," she said plainly, lifting her head from her hands and looking directly at Yanaiyániuoa. "You can't even get your own 'apostle' to listen to you, and you've been throwing a temper tantrum ever since you got here."

The room fell into a deeper silence, as Toivonen's blunt observation hit a nerve. Her straightforwardness contrasted sharply with the diplomatic efforts that had been spiraling in circles.

“You also think we haven’t seen your middling results with poor Yzael over here?” Toivonen gestured at the Elf as she jumped in her own skin. “Your attempts to exert any kind of control here has been lukewarm at best.”

Taken aback by Toivonen's directness, Yanaiyániuoa floated there while her wings fluttered in agitation. She opened her mouth to retort, but no words came out. Instead, she looked at Elijah, as if seeking some form of support or rebuttal.

Elijah, leaning back in his chair with a resigned expression, simply looked at Yanaiyániuoa and said, "She's got a point. She kinda got you there." He said in an off handed matter-of-fact tone.

“Traitor!” She hissed, using her magic to levitate a pen cap and threw it at his face. “Who’s side are you on!?

Caught off guard by the sudden attack, winced as the cap struck him in the eye. "God fucking damnit!" he cursed, rubbing his eye with one hand. He glared at the diminutive goddess with quickly waning patience. "The one who actually pays me, you tiny winged cunt!"

The room fell silent besides the desperately contained chortles from the soldiers in the background.

Lisette, attempting to regain control of the meeting, cleared his throat. "Alright, let's try to keep this civil," he said, his voice commanding authority. "We're here to find a solution, not to escalate tensions further."

The Director, O'Reilly, nodded in agreement with Lisette. "Yes, we need to find a practical way forward," he added, addressing the goddess directly. "Our goal is to work out an arrangement that respects your... uniqueness, while also adhering to our laws and norms."

“We should probably define what she means by ‘own’ or ‘claim’ and not immediately jump to slavery.” Toivonen interjected, tiredly gesturing towards the goddess as she turned her eyes to her superior. “It's evident we're operating on two completely different levels of understanding, so I believe some clarification is in order," she continued, addressing the room pragmatically.

Another bout of silence ensued as the Director and Lisette looked at each other.

“That’s… quite fair.” O'Reilly tentatively agreed as he gestured towards the Diplomat. “Lisette? Thoughts?”

Taking a moment to carefully choose her words, Lisette paused before addressing Yanaiyániuoa. "Madam, when you speak of 'claiming' or 'owning' a soul, could you elaborate on what exactly this entails in your context? It's crucial we understand your perspective fully," she asked diplomatically.

Yanaiyániuoa looked at Lisette, her expression of mild incredulity as if surprised by the lack of understanding. "What? When I claim a soul, it's not mere possession like your stupid writing implement over there.” She waves her hand towards a pen in a dramatic fashion. “It's about becoming the arbiter of their fate. They become representatives of my authority, extensions of my will and power. It's an honor bestowed upon them, granting them a portion of my divine strength," she explained, her voice carrying the weight of ancient tradition.

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“And since this one has yet to be claimed, I claimed him!” She said, flying over to Elijah and sitting on his head. The man didn’t even have the energy to struggle or swat her off as he stared uncaringly at the far-end wall wishing to be anywhere but here.

Then the goddess gestured vaguely towards Yzael while putting one leg over the other. “And that one, too.” She declared as one leg bounced on top of the other. “No other god is going to want her anyways because she's using my little brand of magic.”

The room's atmosphere shifted palpably as Yanaiyániuoa's declaration settled in the air. Her nonchalant claim over Yzael, based on the High Elf's use of her magic, added a layer of complexity to the already tense negotiations.

Caught in the spotlight, Yzael's mind raced. Her use of Yanaiyániuoa's magic was seen as a particular brand of heresy that got one prisoned, killed or worse, crippled if authorities of any faith caught wind of use. Her body posture shifted and her hands nervously slid to the side as if to make an escape as every pair of eyes seemed to drill holes in her forehead.

But her worry seemed to be in vain as the conversation simply shifted as if no one had the slightest care in the world about her use of the heretical magic.

The Director, humming with interest. “So this is something like knighthood and vassalage…” He said aloud, rubbing his clean shaven chin. The analogy seemed to redirect the flow of conversation away from what type of magic the Elf used and back to the goddesses terminology as he started to draw parallels.

“What? What does being a knight or a… what?” Yanaiyániuoa looked down at Elijah for clarification.

“Vassal.”

“Ya, that!” She waved dismissively. “What does that have anything to do with me claiming my mortals?”

Lisette, seizing the opportunity presented by O'Reilly's analogy, stepped in to clarify. "It's just a bit of our history," she explained. "In medieval times, knights were warriors who swore loyalty to a lord in exchange for protection and land. Vassals were similar, offering service or loyalty in exchange for certain privileges. The key point here is the mutual agreement and the benefits both parties gained from the arrangement."

Her explanation seemed to strike a chord with Yanaiyániuoa, who tilted her head in apparent curiosity. "So, these knights and vassals chose to serve in exchange for protection and rewards?" she asked, the concept seemingly new to her.

"Yes, exactly," Lisette continued. "It was based on mutual consent and benefit. Perhaps we can draw a parallel to your concept of claiming a soul. Instead of seeing it as ownership, it could be viewed as a mutual agreement where both parties—yourself and the mortal—benefit from the relationship."

Yanaiyániuoa sat and dangled her leg in thought, processing the information. "Hmmmmm… loyalty and a mutual agreement..." she murmured, her tone softening. "Wait! You’re not loyal at all!” She shouted, using her foot to smack him in the head.

“Hey! You little shit! I didn’t consent to a goddamn thing!” He snapped back, trying to grab at the menace.

Floating away, Yanaiyániuoa pointed an accusatory finger at the man. “Yes you did! Yes you did!” The accusation hung in the air and indignation spread across her face. "When I left my prison, you accepted me. You accepted my power. That's consent!"

Everyone turned a raised eyebrow to Elijah, as his eyes shifted to the side for a moment as he started to recall the memory. “No I didn’t! So what, you’re gonna start making shit up now-” He abruptly paused mid sentence and froze. “Ahhh, shit…”

Elijah's sudden realization momentarily silenced the room. His initial indignation gave way to a begrudging acknowledgment. "Ahhhhh… shit... I did say something, didn't I?"

Yanaiyániuoa, seizing the moment, floated closer to him with a triumphant look. "See! You did agree! You acknowledged my power, so you belong to me!”

A horrible defeat groan left Elijah’s mouth as he ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck me, dude…” A mix of frustration and resignation spread across his face as everyone’s eyes remained locked on him. “Okay… I may have said something along the lines of accepting, but that was more a sarcastic remark and not exactly a well-thought-out agreement."

Lisette stepped in, her voice calm and measured although laced with a bit of concern.”It sounds like there was some level of acknowledgement, even if it wasn’t formal…” She looked uneasily to Toivonen before turning towards The Director. “But it seemed to be enough to form a binding pact.”

O'Reilly, sensing the gravity of the situation, leaned forward, his expression a blend of seriousness and contemplation. "So this… goddess is able to form a contract even if it’s in the form of a verbal joke?” He asked, looking around.

In this complex and tense moment, Yzael hesitantly raised her voice, her accent thick and her choice of words careful as she attempted to bridge the gap between her understanding and the human world.

"Um... if I may," Yzael began, her voice laced with uncertainty. "Yanaiyániuoa, she is... uhh, more than just a goddess. In... in our history, she is also known as a High Judge in a... a Fae Court." Her hands fidgeted slightly as she spoke, indicating her discomfort.

The room's attention shifted to her, giving her an encouraging nod to continue.

"The Fae, they are known, um, for their, uh…" Yzael elaborated, struggling to find the right words in this foreign tongue. "Contracts. And these contracts... They are not simple. They are complex, with... what's that word? Ah yes, words that bind, uh, very deeply. People, they fall into these contracts without fully understanding."

Her gaze drifted, as if recalling tales and warnings from her own world. "These contracts, they can have, um, specific clauses, often... not good. Sometimes, uhh, malicious, other times lead to horrible death. It is said that the Fae, they... they play with words, with intentions. What is casual to us can be very binding in their world."

Her explanation provided a new layer of complexity to the situation, illuminating the nuanced and often perilous nature of dealings with beings like Yanaiyániuoa. O'Reilly and the others in the room absorbed her words, now understanding the need for extreme caution and clarity in every word they chose to speak.

“This means, what might seem like a small off handed dismissal to us, could be a binding agreement to them.” Lisette said grimly as she looked at Elijah who was pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to squeeze the headache away.

“Jesus Christ…” The man moaned with a much more subdued tone. “So what does this mean? I’m stuck with this annoying shithead-”

“RUDE!”

“Until I’m dead?” Elijah finished his sentence, clearly exasperated.

The room filled with an uneasy silence as everyone contemplated the implications of Elijah's situation. The Director glanced around the table, his expression one of deep thought, as if trying to find a loophole or a way out of this unexpected predicament.

However, everyone finally turned to the little goddess as she perched atop of a stapler with a haughty look on her face. “What makes you think death would free you of our contract?” She chimed in with a high-pitched sing-song voice. “I’m a TRUE goddess, and you’re my apostle!” She giggled before floating over to the man. ”So that means your SOUL belongs to me, dummy!”

Elijah made a pained face and closed his eyes as he slammed the back of his chair and covered his face with both hands. “Of-fucking-Course!” He groaned as the little fairy cackled evilly.

“Your soul is mine, mine, mine!” She sang, circling his head. “You belong to me!”

Lisette cringed at the thought of being bound to this entity for all eternity. It was already a startling fact that she was learning details of their life after death, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for Elijah's situation. "Is there any way to... nullify this pact? Any conditions under which it could be dissolved?" She asked with her eyes glued on the diminutive being.

“Nope! It’s eternal, just like me!” Yanaiyániuoa declared with a sense of finality even though her tone was playful. "Eternal and unbreakable, just like the bonds of true divinity!"

With the room still grappling with the implications of Elijah's situation, Yanaiyániuoa's attention suddenly shifted towards Yzael. She floated closer to the High Elf, her expression changing to one of expectancy. "Now, about you," she said, pointing a diminutive finger at Yzael. "You've been using my magic, so it's only right that you accept your position as my servant and worshipper."

Yzael, already overwhelmed by the events of the day, looked visibly uncomfortable at the proposition. "I... um, I already follow a god," she stammered, her voice low and hesitant. However, she worshiped that god in an admittedly, very secular and loose manner so she could wander her realm without being hassled by more of the zealous types.

However, Yanaiyániuoa laughed heartily at Yzael's response, slapping her knee. "Oh, that’s good!" She chuckled, "using my magic, the kind that would have your own people burning you at the stake, and yet you hesitate?" Her tone was teasing yet edged with a sharp truth.

Shifting uneasily, Yzael's eyes darted back to Elijah, whose world seemed to have come crashing down around him as he sat there with both his hands pressed against his face. The thought of enduring a similar fate as him was… daunting, to say the least. "I... I'm not sure that's wise," she said slowly, choosing her words with care. "I believe I must stay faithful to my current deity….” She said fully believing that it wasn’t a good idea. Especially after what I've seen today with Mr. Drake's situation, she definitely didn’t want to be bound in such a manner.

The already malicious smile on Yanaiyániuoa’s face only grew larger as she observed Yzael hesitance. “Oh? Oh, oh, oh? Is that so?” The fairy buzzed next to Yzael’s face, causing the Elf to flinch and yelp.

“Is that so? Is that so???” Yanaiyániuoa continued, zipping around to make sure Yzael was always looking at her as the poor Elf turned her head from one side to the other in an effort to avoid eye contact. “What about your little friend? Don’t you want to keep her safe?”

Yzael instantly froze and stared at the little menace with wide eyes.

“I can keep her safe, ya know! I can tell these human’s to not touch her, ya know! I’ma goddess, ya know!” The little fairy yelled with a toothy grin.

The mention of Lysandra made Yzael's heart race. Yanaiyániuoa's words hit too close to home and her commander was the very reason for Yzael’s bold actions that led her to this very room and struck a deep chord within her. The High Elf looked at the fairy, her eyes reflecting a mix of fear and uncertainty before slowly opening her mouth. “H-How do you know?”

“What?” Yanaiyániuoa looked at her as if the Elf was stupid. “What do you mean, how do I know? Do you not remember the whole me dominating your soul-”

“Failed to dominate.” Elijah, being petty as usual, heckled his patron

“SHUT UP!!!” The goddess snapped head over to him and roared before turning back to Yzael while grumbling to herself. “Anyways… Do you not remember me casting a domination spell on you?” The goddess corrected herself as she addressed Yzael again.

An overwhelming sensation overcame Yzael as she remembered being trapped within her own mind and became a prisoner to forces far beyond her comprehension. The memory of that helplessness and the dreadful feeling of being lost within an arcane maze were still vivid. She shuddered at the recollection as her eyes darted all around the room.

Swallowing hard, Yzael looked down as her thoughts raced. The idea of forfeiting one’s soul to a goddess of such… notoriety was beyond terrifying, but the thought of potentially losing another friend was equally as horrible. Even though Yzael was nowhere near as close to Lysandra as she was Gideon, her commander was still cut from the same cloth from the same tavern…

And that was enough.

“I…” Yzael squeaked with a hoarse voice.

“I accept…”

Suddenly the room flashed violet as Yanaiyániuoa placed a hand on Yzael’s head and casted her binding spell.