“No way! That guy folded that easily?!” Bonnie exclaimed, and leaned in. It was evening now, and Gregory, Bonnie, and Fiona were seated at a private table at McFly’s diner, which had the best food on this side of the city. The place was bustling, even for a weeknight. Commoners and nobles alike dined here, and the warm red-painted walls and bright white floors of the diner gave a sense of something modern. Chestnut colored wooden tables and comfy booth seats were plentiful, and arcane wisp lights illuminated the eatery in a low golden ambiance.

Fiona had come across the place early after her arrival to Fiefdala as a cheap place to eat, and became a repeat customer. The owner was a stern-faced, barrel-chested, blue scaled and muscular lizardman named Jarl, who always seemed to crack a smile when she walked in the door. He smiled for no one else except his wife, who worked in the back. The first thing he’d done was offer them appetizers for free, but Fiona smiled and said they had to play it fair. She couldn’t help but notice her portion of loaded tubers was a bit bigger than the others, though.

Bonnie was dressed in a low-cut dress that matched her orange fur, her hair was tied back with a scrunchie, and was looking as cute as ever. She tried not to laugh as Fiona described the events leading up to beating the stuffing out of Doug, the dragon lord. Greg was there in a casual long-sleeved tunic and slacks, sipping on a spritzy drink that the air elemental at the counter made. She’d had that one of those drinks before, and it reminded her of root beer, but with a bit more bitter after-flavor. Greg gave her his look of disdain when she stole his drink for a sip, and included a slight crease of his brow and tightening of his jaw.

“Fiona, it’s like you never stop eating. Or stealing my food,” he stated flatly. She smiled at him and leaned in.

“It tastes better if it’s stolen, Greg. You’ll learn eventually. Anyway, so there I was, surrounded by the dragon lord’s armies! Nick, Cita and I had a plan all figured out, but he somehow knew we were coming.” She waved around the table for emphasis, with Bonnie listening attentively, ears tensed and elbows propping her chin up. “So, I used my mighty morphing weapon, and turned it into a staff. Those kobolds were just, oh my goodness, adorable. Like little lizard plushies! I mean yeah, they were trying to kill me or set me on fire, but I was like, nah, these guys just need a good beating! So I went bam, wham, shazam!”

Fiona pounded the table for emphasis, grinning from ear to pointy ear, and a fry dislodged from Greg’s hand when the table shook. He looked unhappily at the sauce now on his hand. “So we cleared them out, no problem. Nick set up an alchemical bomb to blow up the foundries where they were making weapons, Cita went and looted all the loot–because, you know, her job is loot ninja–and then I went solo to take on the dragon. He was this lanky-looking dude with polished black hair and a pretty boy face, and he started stammering that I was disrupting all his plans, and all he wanted was his land back. He started monologuing!” Fiona declared, fists clenched around a helpless fry that became paste.

“No, he did not!” Bonnie said with a shake of her head, and leaned in even further.

“Yep, he went into a full meltdown mode, blubbering and raging! He was off his game. He came at me with this big old scepter of his, screaming that this was his birthright! So I just beat him six ways to Moonday. I love weapons that can be set to ‘humiliate’ rather than harming,” she added with an evil smile.

“Dearie, I think you have a mean streak,” Bonnie said while giggling.

“Nonsense! I held back a bit! I betcha no one ever saw an elf lugging around a giant maul. I got that morphic weapon as a gift from saving the Duke of Bahn two months ago, on a little side gig I did. I mean, how could I resist? I got my Bahn hammer!” she said while leaning back and looking proud.

Bonnie was taking a sip from her glass and sputtered while trying to laugh at the same time, and barely even noticed her fur was dripping wet. “How do you even carry that thing? It’s comically huge, Fiona, you must be like pure wired muscle!”

“Dearie, you’ve seen me, I’m not that buff,” Fiona said proudly. Bonnie twirled her fur and blushed lightly, and Greg raised an eyebrow of curiosity. “Elves have hyper-dense muscles or something! Anyway, once it was hammer time, the dragon lord got smacked around the room like a pinball! It was kind of fun, except he tapped out, and begged me to stop,” Fiona said with a smug look. “So I told him, ‘give me all your stuff, and never attack Fiefdala again’. He started crying and just told me he never wanted to see me, the crazy hot elf chick, for the rest of his natural-born life! Which for a dragon, has got to be a long time!”

“Fiona, the terror of dragons. You might be better served with laying with them, rather than trying to slay them,” Greg quipped. She glared at him, and one ear twitched. “I mean he was decent looking, yes?”

“I don’t mind dating outside my own species, and he was kinda hot, in that reserved nerd kind of way! Damn, it’s been a while, and my last boyfriend was eaten by a dragon!”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Billy’s not dead,” Greg countered. “The dragon coughed him up! Oh wait, you probably missed that part. He threatened to fireball her from the inside, unless she let him go. He retired from adventuring, and that dragon hasn’t been seen since.” Fiona let out a soft sound of palpable relief. Being eaten did sound like a bad way to go.

“What a dummy,” Fiona said with a wavy hand. “He didn’t even write to me to tell me he was alive? Man, he must have been embarrassed. Ah, well. Onto the next one!”

The conversation was interrupted briefly as dinner was brought out, by Jarl himsefl, with a toothy lizard grin. “Darling, it’s been a spell, I saw you come in, how’ve you been?” he asked warmly.

“Oh, you know. Smacking around dragons is tiring work, so I needed comfort food, and your place is the coziest one I know!” she said with a warm smile. “Oh my gosh, that noodle bowl looks better than ever, Jarl.”

“Eh. Just a little practice with the missus and the staff,” he replied. Her mouth watered at that noodle bowl with all the toppings just off to the side–her favorite! This whole dish had been her idea when she proposed the meal a few months ago, and it took off faster than a lightning elemental during a thunderstorm.

Now, a good third of the tables had this same dish every night, and she couldn’t help but feel proud of it. She did ponder, how many other people were kicked here from earth, and didn’t think to reinvent a few classics?

She didn’t take credit, though. She was just happy to have her favorite foods, a few at a time. Jarl rubbed at his feather crest and glanced around the table. “Gregory, tell me you’re not letting this pointy-eared heart melter get into too much trouble, yeah? I’m part dragon! I don’t want a thumping, I just want good business!” he said with a hearty laugh.

“I’m trying, Jarl. But Miss Swiftheart here seems to find trouble like a magnet finds north,” he added shrewdly. She kicked his shin gently under the table, and pouted her lips. “Ow. Be nice.”

“Me, be nice? It’s in my name! Except for evil exes. They get the smackdown, and especially Billy. He didn’t even call to tell me he wasn’t dead!” she stated and folded her arms across her chest.

“Maybe for a good reason?” Greg asked with a smirk. She frowned and kicked his shin again, the nerve of this boy, indeed!

Jarl laughed harder and clapped a clawed hand on Greg’s shoulder. “You know what, forget what I said, she’s alright. I have to remind myself that Miss Swiftheart here is as strong as she is a cutie, and falling afoul of either of those traits is deadly.”

“Aw, you’re such a big softy, Jarl!” she declared with a kissy face, all while his scales on his face went from blue to purple. “Anyway, I’ll catch up with you to tell you all about my exploits, I got a timer ticking on a pressing matter here at home that I have to deal with, first.”

“Oh, you know I’ll be here. The missus also says hi from the kitchen, too, she misses your fiery-haired mane wandering in every morning,” he replied while pointing a thumb to the swinging doors. “Drop by and give her a smile tomorrow, yeah?”

“Oh, of course, I will!” Jarl bowed slightly before heading back to the other tables, writing down orders and holding his pen with his tail, before departing back into the kitchen.

“Don’t you have more pressing matters?” Bonnie asked while checking her arcanist notepad. “King Barry is going to own your soul if you don’t do something quickly.”

“I've got some ideas to fix that, though I just opened up my soul to the taxman with an audit,” she groaned. “Bonnie, you were planning on setting up shop in that old textile mill, right?” Fiona asked, as an idea came to mind. “I need retail space. I need it cheap, I need it fast, and I need it in a prime location to get all the high-end clientele and I think I might have some strategies to keep building revenue. I think, we could…build a team.”

“You want to share the space?” Bonnie asked, ears perked up at a canted angle. “Like, split the costs?”

“Well, yeah! I’m thinking I need something that sells more than just stuff, I need services! Like an emporium. I also need a name that doesn’t suck. Magoo’s Emporium is so cringe, that place at the south end of town? They keep selling weird dismembered paw things that count off fingers when people make wishes. Kind of creepy, now that I think about it.”

“Am I going to lose my job as a part-time mage?” Bonnie asked nervously. Fiona placed a hand over hers firmly and smiled.

“Bonnie, you’re a part-time helper for me, and a full-time friend, and you won’t lose that status if I go broke,” Fiona said proudly, and the kitsune practically wilted at the table. “You too, Greg. But smile more, you need to work those facial muscles! You gotta look like a dragon, when it comes to danger time!”

“My face hurts when I stretch it,” he muttered. She proceeded to pinch his lips into a forced smile.

“Nonsense! Pain goes away with practice! Now, let’s finish up, and go start my master plan! Tucker’s gonna start clawing my couch if I’m out too late.”

With the meal finished, they departed for the evening, and Fiona looked upward at the night sky, after waving goodbye to Bonnie and Greg. She took in that smell of a lingering summer sweetness. She hoped that she could get a message through to old Greybeard, she had done him a huge favor. She just kept getting the messenger that attended to him.

In the meantime, she had a game plan to put together. She had weapons, armor and equipment for the old job. This new one required different tools and means to battle. She entered her apartment with little fanfare, closed the lock, and was greeted by her loving phase cat. Tucker playfully pounced on her as she tucked under the covers, and drifted off to sleep, and the sound of crickets in the gardens behind the apartment.

I'm not losing this place. I’m not losing my friends again. Never.