Fiona managed to get through the second day of renovation work by trying not to focus on the events of the morning–she still needed to process just what had happened. At least with the renovation work, the place was shaping up nicely. But, they needed one more day of work to put the polishing touches on the building. She was in about as unhurried a pace as she could be, because the second she finished with more construction and repairs, she went home, showered, and went out to Darla’s place, just up the street.

She cursed her silliness. She’d been here for six months, and not thought to question the whole ‘class’ thing as more than just a phrase she heard from time to time, and equated it to jobs or careers. It was literally wearing your passions on your sleeve!

Her soul on her sleeve!

Almost in response, her wrist tingled. She rolled back her sleeve as a few raindrops came down. If anything, the jeweled heart was even more visible, and the wings…fluttered on her skin. She flicked her wrist gently, and it remained still. Uh, are you alive or something? It almost reminded her of living tattoos she'd seen in movies.

I have no idea what this means, but Bonnie and Greg are going to be really pissed off that I didn’t tell them about this. I’m gonna tell them soon, I have to. She just didn’t want to bring it up yet. She was still grappling with it. The store was the priority, and as long as Clarke was keen on keeping his job, this was a slow-burn crisis, rather than an immediate one. Okay winged heart, what do I do?

The answer didn’t come in words, but she felt a flutter in her own heart, for a second. This was literally wearing her heart on her sleeve–which was how she had been living the past six months. Unlike back on earth, where she had to keep some things to herself.

Or, too many. She took a sharp breath, and let it go through her teeth. She needed something positive, first, to calm down.

Unprecedented days with a lot of bad stuff needed to end on a positive note. If coffee–or Darla–weren’t the fixes for that malady, she didn’t know what was.

Darla saw the look on her face and knew something was wrong. It had been hard enough to keep appearances in front of Greg, Bonnie, and Jake, but here, it was harder. A drizzle had held off just until she got inside, and was pattering down–part of the autumn rains. Darla’s pointy ears–and horns–perked up a bit, and her tail flickered in curiosity. “What’ll it be, darling? You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

“Uh, you know, busy working at the new emporium location. Say, Darla, what have you got that I haven't tried yet? I need something fresh and interesting,” Fiona proposed after stepping into the coffee shop, and Darla peered at her with golden-colored irises swimming in a slightly darker scalera, while leaning on the counter with a light smile.

“Hmm. Tricky. You’ve tried almost everything, and you’ve been here often enough that I could name your favorite. But as for something new, I could try, well let’s see…the frozen emperor!” she declared, and snapped her fingers while a toothy grin emerged. Fiona didn’t even see it on the menu in Darla’s fancy writing on the chalkboard, but she knew she was in for a treat.

“Alright, I’ll have one of those!” Fiona affirmed as she tapped her hand on the table.

“You got it, dear,” Darla said with a small salute and got to work. In the meantime, Fiona’s attention kept going to her wrist.

Her symbol. A jeweled heart with wings. She swore that it glowed a faint red, too, but if it was, Darla didn't notice.

“Strain a muscle?” she queried, even as she worked. Her tail whipped around and grabbed a small bag of beans, which went into the grinder. A swirl of arcane light came from the machine, and she could smell those freshly roasted beans. Darla had this down to an arcane science, and Fiona leaned in, elbows on the counter. This immediately relaxed her mood from her otherwise tumultuous morning and early afternoon, trying not to freak out.

“Uh, new class. I passed my merchant thing without any issues, but afterward, it was…well, you know how it is. It’s an experience.” she rolled up her sleeve a little bit, so she wouldn’t obsess over it.

A moment later, she had a frozen beverage with a hint of hazelnut notes, and possibly…cherry? Her nose was always keen, and she had to try this new delight. Darla handed the finished drink to her, and her hand lingered on Fionas for a moment–it was like an electric touch.

“There ya go, dearie. I learned this one from another summon, and it took a while to replicate. But, it's a frozen treat that's out of this world!” Darla crossed her arms and looked confident as Fiona took a sip.

“Oh, my.” The taste was like a blend of the velvety smooth espresso, chilled to perfection, with just the hint of cherry and hazelnut notes that was an utter delight. She took another deep sip, and let out an exhalation of bliss. “That's so good! Why have you never made this, you could make so much money, dear!”

“Really? Hmm. Maybe not everyone's got a sweet tooth,” Darla shrugged and shifted the cutely trimmed bangs of chestnut and blue hair away from her face. She usually kept it tied up, and there was a touch of fatigue on her face–usually, she was up before the sun, from what Fiona remembered, getting ready. “You do, though, you long-eared cutie! Looks like I’ll have to keep this beverage in mind!”

“Aww, you’re so sweet, Darla. Oh hey, here, some extra silvers–this made my day a lot better,” Fiona said even as she tried to not blush. Darla looked down at the coins and put them into the till–then leaned back in, eyes looking a little somber.

“Hey, you know you can talk here. I don’t bite. Well, maybe nibble a little,” she said with a slight sideways glance. “What happened today?”

“So the merchant thing, I guess, I uh…wasn’t prepared for it.” She glanced down at her drink and tried not to bring up the discussion. But, maybe she could ask a few casual questions. “Darla, I don’t think I’ve met another, um, well…”

“Darkling?” she finished. Fiona nodded quietly. “You can ask, it’s alright. I remember earlier in the week, you said you were summoned. I was, too. Though, not across the entire cosmos. I was summoned from the underworld by some upstart mage who had some grandiose plans to bring home a girlfriend.” Fiona tried not to laugh at that, and bit her lip hard.

“Guessing it didn’t go his way?” Fiona asked. Darla shook her head, those golden orbs lit up a bit more brightly.

“Nah. I’m not that kind of girl. We darklings are quite open about who we care about, regardless of gender, and he wasn’t my type. After I beat him with the broadside of his summoning spell book, he changed his tune. I also might have threatened him in an endearing way that his manhood would become a purse ornament.”

Fiona snerked at this. “Darling, that would have probably been a tad too much. Even as awful as that sounds. So, when you got summoned, were you…well, still the same?”

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“I mean, yeah? I was still me, I had what I was wearing and holding at the time. Why? Was yours different?” she inquired as she drummed her finger on the counter lightly. Fiona noted that even as sharp as her claws were, they were well maintained–even with a splash of purplenail polish, too, and expertly applied. The purple matched her skin color nicely.

“Well, I got brought here, and I didn’t have long ears, let’s just say.” She rubbed at one conscientiously. “Darla, dumb question. All the summons have a class, right? Even you?”

“Yeah, I had one in the underworld. Despite all the flak that darklings get, we have a quite progressive society down there, and we have the same setup as everyone else. Funny, my Destined Class was supposed to be ‘artist’, but I ended up becoming a chef. Though, as you might have figured out, those classes can be quite broadly termed,” she explained. “You know, that’s kind of annoying. My dad loved to cook. I mean, everyone has to eat, right? People need to be part of that service.”

“I love food,” Fiona declared with a passionate voice. “Food is awesome! And snacks. A-anyway, you were saying?” she motioned for Darla to continue, whose tail was wagging back and forth gently. She wondered if she could read Darla’s mood, based on that alone. No, Fiona, Darla is not a cat! She shoved the wayward thought aside, as amusing as it was.

Darla continued without missing a beat. “Well, my dad was a chef, he used to work for some big-wig demon lord. Not the evil, ‘Rawr, I’m going to invade the upper world and wreck it!’ kind, either. My dad worked for this chill demon lord who ran his chunk of the underworld like a normal place to live, so that people could pursue their dreams.”

Darla hunkered down, fingers interlaced between her hands, and looked dreamy. “I love my dad to pieces. He is so good at what he does. So, I followed him in his footsteps. Blood had barely dried on the contract when it was taken, and the Administrator guy was shocked. Then, I saw that little message about my destined class on the scroll about being an artist. Lost forever,” she sighed with an eye roll. “But, I am an artist of a different sort–with coffee delights,” she added with a soft laugh.

“Now, there’s a positive attitude! Maybe it was meant to be, but just not in the way you thought!” Fiona proposed with a gentle pat on her forearm. Darla blushed, with a hint of purple on her face, but she also didn’t shy away. “But, you were also pulled away from home. Could you get back?”

“To the underworld? Ah, that’s easy, just find a big enough cave, and I could meander my way down, no problem. Most of the demon kingdoms don’t have issues with the surface, and some have teleports back and forth to the surface. I did go down a few of times to see Mom and Dad, but after I got to the surface…I kind of took a liking to it,” she added with a content sound of delight. "They're still afraid the sky will eat me. Superstition, indeed."

She pointed out the window, where the drizzle had set in. “Sure, you got that thing called rain out here. But, it’s pretty. I like to fall asleep to the sound of the rain, running down the window in my apartment. There’s also another thing I noticed. The usual crowd trickles in for a warm drink when the autumn rains come in. They get all cozy, quiet, calm, and it’s this most therapeutic thing. Watching people get all settled up in here. It’s different than down there. Not bad, not good, because heaven knows, the surface has its slew of problems. Greedy dragons included,” she laughed with a tousle of Fiona’s hair, and she protested playfully at this breach of space.

“Oh, you sassy barista, you!” she accused playfully, and she also felt a lot better now. “At least you can go home. I don’t know if I can. Can people be unsummoned?”

“Hmm, not really. The teleportation would need all the setup on the other side, it’s kind of one way. It’s like that game with leather gloves, a white ball, and that club you swing. You need to ‘catch’ someone on the receiving side. Failure to do so could be, um, messy.” She scrunched her face at this mention. “I’m glad you came out here in one piece, though!”

“Yeah, me too. Well, I do know that, for the time being, I don’t think I can go home. I honestly believe that even if I could go back…it would be a struggle to go back, when I’ve started building something here.” She pondered that after taking another sip of her drink, and took a few mental notes. “Look, sorry if I sound dumb, but, what's your class magic like? Or skills?”

“Hmm. A lot of it is documented, but no two people wear their class the same. For me, it's an enhancement of my taste, smell, and touch. Dunno what that last one is about, maybe textures of food?” she pondered while tilting her head to the side. “But, I can put together recipes like no tomorrow, not just coffee or sandwiches, and I cook like a demon–ah, what a pun,” she added with a deep laugh. “I like what I can do, it’s all I ever wanted, I think. I have all the skills I need from my dad. I didn’t need a class for that, but it certainly made me better at what I already did. I don’t need to be an artist in title, to make something people would give great thought to. You know?” she added with a shy smile. “So, if you don’t mind me asking? Is this related to today?”

“Maybe. I don't know, it’s just one of those days, where you give a lot of thought to something you gave almost no thought to, before. And you just sit there, and give it a good, long thinking. I used to have days like that. In the shop I ran. Sometimes, if customers were lacking, I’d grab a book, and read. It would help me clear my thoughts.” Fiona took another sip, and Darla nodded thoughtfully.

“What kind of books?”

“Fantasy novels. We had darklings–but, they called them different things, and they looked different–and a bunch of other things! Dragons, too. But the dragons were still mean on Earth. Or at least they were in the books. We didn’t have real ones. Funny how the universe works, huh?” she commented with a sly nudge. “It has been a bit of an adjustment. Anyway, I’ve been talking off your ear–”

“Nah, I like this,” Darla replied warmly, and pointed to the rain. “I know some people hate rainy days, but days like this bring me a lot of peace. It's strange to say that, but that…what’s the word, white noise, ambiance, that dimmer color palette? Sometimes, you need a little dimming, to appreciate the rest of the bright, bold colors of life. Or, fiery-haired elves that saunter into my shop, looking like they’re woefully lacking on a companion for the evening,” She teased, and a few sharp teeth edged out.

“Ah, I’m not lacking, Darla. The more the merrier, you know?” Fiona leaned back, and watched the rain coming down, and she could see down the end of the road, a hint of the lake beyond the buildings, where they were on a low hill. “Quick question. What happens if someone writes in their destined class? Without knowing it, beforehand?”

Darla straightened up and looked surprised. “You know something? I have no idea. I know that people have talked of destiny and being chosen by the walking gods of the world, but, you know, I didn’t see too many of them below!” she laughed. “Maybe they didn't like the sharp rocks, or that their feet were getting burnt if they didn't watch their step! One trick I love, is putting my hand on the grill–scares the rookies every time,” she chuckled with an evil grin and flexed her fingers lightly.

“So, you have no idea, either,” Fiona concluded.

“Nah. I wish I did, advice like that comes free with the drink normally.” She walked her fingers over the counter playfully, little clicks of nails against the well-loved, varnished wood counter. “You’d have to ask someone more rehearsed in such things than me. I’m sure it’s some big hubalahoo. Or, maybe it’s just like when you normally just let it time out on your eighteenth birthday, and nothing special happens.”

“If you’d known you’d be an artist, would you have stuck with it?” Fiona asked keenly.

“I think you had it right. I didn’t pick the class, but, I sort of live the class. I like doing what I do. Most customers come in, they order, they leave, but they also leave with a smile. Most of them. Even Jarl,” she added with a huff. “Putting a smile on that guy’s face is tough work, Fi. You make it look easy. Being an artist is this ability to express, to make people feel something.”

“Making Jarl feel all sappy? Yeah, he’s a big softie. You just need to have the right kind of smile. I mean yours are shark teeth, but in that deadly cute way." She gave a nudge to Darla’s elbow, who tilted her head back and laughed heartily at this.

“Hah! No one’s ever called me shark tooth! You know what, don’t let that one spread, people will start calling me that. The nickname will never go away,” she said while trying to get her composure back, and Fiona lost hers for a few seconds, as well. “Sheesh, Fiona, I need more gals like you in my life.”

“Wanna hang out sometime?” Fiona proposed, and Darla scrunched her face, then her eyes brightened.

“Sure! Uh…how about this weekend?”

“I got Jake’s thing on Wardsday. What about Zandsday?” she countered, and Darla put her hand out to shake on it.

“Sure thing. Oh, and do bring that bite-sized accountant and that other cutie! I promise to not nibble her tail!” Darla added with a comical gnashing of her teeth. “Why don’t we do dinner at your place? I can show off some of my skills, and not from behind the counter, here!”

“Well then, sounds good!” Fiona tipped her drink back, and after a few more moments of banter, pushed her chair in, once the rain let up a little. “I’ll see ya then!”