Nothing could prepare Fiona for the size of the pies that were being served in the quaint little tent. She'd seen pies, and this one was just...divine.

"Yes. That. I'll have that. All of it," she stated distantly, as the aroma of seasoned meat and well cooked vegetable medley hit hard. Marita’s pies were not the only food being served--there were also tasty baked goods, still warm from the oven in the form of melty cookies. The stand was run by a lady rounded with middle age and children-bearing, but quick on her feet as she carried several of the pies to and from a mobile oven. Tiny fire elementals provided the flame and were fed with cords of wood nearby. She swore she could hear the fire spirits feasting on the timber, and screaming for more.

It was one way to keep a job, she figured, though she hadn’t seen too many of them lingering around in the streets. Her focus was on the pie brought out to her and the others, and she gasped. It was huge. And filled with a slightly smoky, savory scent that beckoned to her!

“Did anyone else hear Fiona’s eyes dilate, or was that just me?” Bonnie joked as she too, grabbed some simple disposable utensils made of some fast-growing wood. She carefully cut a section of the pie and handed the first slice to Fiona. “Nice tossing on the daggers, by the way. Cute, and dangerous! Doug likely overestimated you when you steamrolled into his lair.”

“I eat dragons for breakfast. I mean, not literally," she stammered while Bonnie giggled. She quickly dove into the pie, and enjoyed the earthly flavors of the vegetables, and the slightly sweet, but mostly savory texture of the bison forming the heart of it.

It was tender, juicy, and well-cooked–she almost burned her mouth in the process and tried to fan away the heat. “Oh, this is so good! I love you Marita!” she called out to the counter, where the middle-aged lady with the gray-streaked black hair smiled and waved.

“Anytime, dear! I heard you were in business now, get tired of beating up dragons?” she called out with a hearty laugh.

“I only beat up the one! And a small army of kobolds. Dang, it’s hard to beat up adorably cute monsters. Even the slimes.” She peered over to Greg and Darla, who took a slower pace on pie-to-face, and were talking calmly about coffee. Bonnie’s ears were still perked up in excitement as she dug in, and took care to not get any drippings on her jacket. “Man, think of all the things I haven’t experienced here yet!”

“They didn’t have fairs where you grew up?” Bonnie teased, and jabbed an almost-carrot vegetable on her plate.

“I mean, we did, but it was different. And in some ways, it was also the same. Kinda strange, how getting transmigrated across the cosmos has that effect on ya,” she said before leaning back, now feeling a slight lethargy from eating too fast. She took a minute to grab a sip of water from a wooden cup, well crafted and smoothed edges, the handle feeling light beneath her fingers. No one else was paying attention, and Greg was talking about some kind of imported beans with Darla. Kali was chatting with someone else--possibly a school mate that had been there earlier.

“Bonnie, what if I’m the last survivor of Earth?” she asked quietly. “What if there is no Earth anymore?”

“Then that makes you its storyteller, its chronicler of its history, its culture and people,” Bonnie said softly. But, instead of looking down, she looked right at Fiona. “I’ve been doing the research. I know some summons came from there, but…they can come from any corner of the universe. The fact is, you don’t know what happened. And if you think about it, you’ll think about what you’re missing there. What you should be thinking about, is what you carry with you.”

“That’s…an interesting spin on it,” she murmured after a moment. “So, you did a little reading? I have, too. And I don't understand one fundamental question: why."

“I know, Fi. I want answers, too. When I’m not at the shop, with you guys, or at the apartment. I have to keep it discreet, on account of a nosy, mop-headed blonde we both share a mutual distrust of,” she added in an unsubtle stab at King Barry. “It’s still mystifying, even to me, the concept of other worlds. That people cross the thresholds between them at the will of mages, sorcerers, and god-like beings far more powerful than I could ever hope to be. I’m just a little kitsune witch, with a cute hat and a couple of enchantments. That’s enough for me,” she added with a toothy grin. “Besides, if we had more than one of you in the world, the bounds of reality could not contain your limitless energies,” she added as she booped her nose gently.

“Oooh, you sassy vixen you!” Fiona scolded, even as she smirked. She did, however, give some weight to Bonnie’s words. “You know something, you made a great point. Earth is filled with a bunch of tough-as-nails people. I’m sure that it fought on, and maybe even won, since I’ve been gone. What else did the books say?”

“Not much. Summoning is a bit of an eldritch art, reserved for summoner classes. It’s not a class you could easily pick up, and it’s super restrictive. Moreso than the mage-related classes. I couldn’t rule out one of the gods doing it…but, without leaving you even a message or some kind of greetings? That’s odd.”

“Why would a god or goddess bring little old me out here, if that were the case?” she pondered. “My last dying act was one of defiance, and getting other people to safety. There’s a lot of people who were doing that.”

“Hmm. Good question. That still comes back to the question of why you came back as an elven. You’re sure you weren’t elven?”

Fiona tapped her ears for emphasis. “Bonnie, I'm pretty sure I wasn't. Man, that’s a little bit of weirdness, the first time I looked in a mirror? It was mostly me? But sort of not? I bet a lot of summons freak out. I freaked out. A little bit. Call me vain, but, I was remarkably average beforehand, so being handed something like that…you tend to wonder what strings came attached.”

“The mileage may vary, from the few records I’ve been able to dig up. Just letting you know I’m not leaving you hanging, Fi,” Bonnie said proudly. “Seriously though, you are crazy strong if you can lift that absurd weapon of yours. That’s not very elven-like.”

“It’s all in the muscle memory,” she added as she flexed an arm for emphasis. “Ah, but what an experience. Do you know what the strange bit is? I mean, there are monsters, all sorts of Folk from every single page of every single fantasy book I’ve ever read, magic is a real thing…and yet, life isn’t all that dissimilar here.”

“In Fiefdala, yeah. And the Unified Kingdoms, which form a protective alliance. But, go further outside the sphere of influence, and you’ll find…less successful kingdoms, by the coast, by the deserts to the far east, and fuether south. A lot of nomadic and smaller communities. Beyond that, across the sea to the west…they don’t treat life the same way,” Bonnie explained. Greybeard was correct, that empire wannabe is best served by being isolated from everyone. Have you seen a map of the world, yet?”

“Nah. I was busy doing too many other things, and seeing it in person,” Fiona said with a smirk. “What else is out there?”

“Sheesh. What isn’t there out there?” Bonnie laughed. “Where would you want to go, is probably a better question.”

She mulled over it for a second. “South. I’d like to go visit the Barnathi Elven tribe someday, in the plains.”

“Why there?” Bonnie asked. “I mean, I get that you look a little like them, but there’s more than one elven community.”

“Gemma said I look like them. It’s not far from Fiefdala. Maybe it’ll give me a chance to figure out a few things.” She glanced over to Greg and Darla, laughing about something. They were almost wrapped up with the meal, and Fiona made it a point to wrap this up, too. “Maybe I'll double up and make it a business trip, yeah?”

“Sheesh. Always working, aren’t you?” Bonnie replied with a heartfelt sigh. “You think it’ll give you answers?”

“Maybe. I had a horrible thought, Bonnie. What if I displaced someone else, when I was summoned? Stole their body, put them...elsewhere? What would you do, if you thought your entire existence was stolen, and not through any fault of your own? Would you just ignore it? Or would you try to find answers?” She posed.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“Well…you make a fair point. I would want to know, even if it's an answer I might not like." She folded her hands together, and tapping her claws gently against each other. “But, that isn’t one we’re finding for a while, most likely. I can't imagine anyone would be that cruel to do that. Or if its even possible."

“Yeah. For now, let’s deal with this blonde muppet, who decided it’s fun to piss off heroes and cute merchants,” she added with a wink, and rose from the table, now well fed. Greg and Darla had just gotten up, and complimenting Marita about the food. Fiona gazed at them and clapped her hands together. “Alright, what’s next?”

“I vote we go watch a bunch of chrome dome knights bash each other with sticks and rocks,” Darla proposed with a flash of teeth, and pounded one fist into her other palm. “We do that underground, too. But it’s usually just with fists, we’re uh…prickly enough that blades and rocks need not apply.”

“And a heart melter,” Fiona added with a grin, and looped an arm around her and Bonnie. “Well, shall we go watch some primal men beat each other up with sticks?”

“There’s also jousting and dueling. There’s room for professionalism,” Greg chimed in with a small smile. “What about you, Fiona, want to jump in on it?”

“Nah, I’m good. We can let someone else dole out the beatings for a bit,” she responded with a smile and skipped along while leading Bonnie and Darla, who leaned into the motion. They almost barreled into an elven couple who had to swerve out of the way, too engaged in laughing with each other. “You know what else we had back at home? They had this thing called ninja warrior.”

“What’s a ninja?” Bonnie inquired.

“A darkly dressed, stealthy dude who would assassinate people under the cover of night. They had this almost mythical status in culture. They didn’t do a whole lot of that in reality. Anyway the point is, they had this obstacle course over water hazards, and other displays of agility. You had to complete the tasks fast, and it pushed you to your beating limits against a timer. It was so whacked!” she explained.

“Man, now that sounds like something I’d try! My witchery skills aren’t limited to just spells, I know how to be mobile!” Bonnie said with a gleeful smile. “Think you could make that popular here?”

“Bon-bon, if I can bring noodle bowls to Jarl's, and they become an instant hit, then I bet I can bring a whole lot more to the table. I just wanna make sure I bring the good aspects of the culture of where I come from to the forefront. We had some not-so-good habits, too.” Like influencers. Or frozen TV dinners. Ick. Those are two things I’ll spare this place from, she thought.

“Or perhaps spending habits?” Greg suggested dryly as if reading her mood. She stuck her tongue out at him; he could be such a stick in the mud, sometimes! But he also relented after a moment, and gestured to her. “To be fair, you have taken my advice somewhat.”

“I know. Now I only get to buy one cute pair of boots from Craig's shop. And I got them on sale. I shall cherish them twice as much!”

A few minutes later, they were sitting on the wooden stands, watching a display of combat that Fiona yelled and cheered at enthusiastically. This was a sport that required immense attention, and that they should make champions out of this:

Wrestling.

“This game is a bunch of men, grabbing other men, trying to push them out of a circle. Where’s the bloodshed? Where’s the attempts to gouge out eyes, crack skulls?” Darla complained, but that deep-set smile made it obvious she was still enjoying it.

“This is a game of deep skill, using the positioning of the body and maneuvering to beat an opponent. It has simple rules and deep complexity,” Greg commented, and leaned in while watching the fight. “Each move has a counter. And each counter has a counter. This is not just a game of strength, but of positioning, agility, and reading your opponent.”

The heavyset man trying to bulldoze the smaller, more agile man found them locked in arms in the fine-grained sand arena surrounded by small wooden pylons. Each man gritted their teeth in utter focus. The small man bowed with the moves, but did not give ground, and they stayed fixed in the center of the circle. With a sudden maneuver, the smaller man used the bigger foe’s weight against him and stumbled him. The man crossed the circle line and skidded to the ground, cursing.

“See?” Greg asked Darla with a casual smile. “One must appreciate the artistry that goes into the painting, as well as the easel he works upon.”

“Bah, get me jousting! I wanna see some guys fly!” Darla responded with a cheer. They were soon watching the next event of jousting except for one small, but significant deviation:

They were riding feathery griffins–mounts with well-designed saddles, and those flexible lances were made of wood and a soft resin material coated at the end, to ensure a blunt impact. The rules were much the same as jousting, each hit counted a certain number of points, depending on the strike location. But, unseating them from the griffins was typically met with a magical flare of a golden net catching the flying rider, with the darkly dressed mages hurrying them out of the way before the griffins came back around to try and harass them further.

It was hard to tell who was in control: the griffin, or the riders.

All Fiona knew, is that this was a contest she’d never be able to see anywhere else. She cheered as the number of dismounted knights rose, and they shook off the rough landing to the helping hands of the mage staff keeping them from becoming ragdolls.

“What do you think, Fi, you think you could ride a griffin?” Bonnie asked with a sharpened smile, and pointed at one clawing and stomping, eager for the next round.

“Bah, that’s small time! I wanna get a dragon mount! He will be my bestie, and we will never get a traffic ticket, ever!” she declared with a roar.

“Uh, dragons are living, thinking beings, Fi. pretty sure it won’t work the way you think,” Bonnie said with a clap on her shoulder, smiling proudly. “Then again, I suppose you would have the courage to try, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh hells, yes, Bonnie–”

She was interrupted by a man walking into the field after the last round of griffin jousting had concluded. He was a lizardkin who stood about a good two meters tall, with smooth green pebbly skin, a long swaying tail, and and sharp yellow eyes, smiling and waving at the crowd He was dressed in a rather fancy tunic and leggings to accommodate his clawed feet, and he tapped an arcane relay. Sound feedback from the small crystals adorning the site rung at a deafening level.

“Ladies and gentlemen, and folks of all shapes and sizes! We’d like to bring you to the main event, the melee tournament! Now, we’ll be starting in about a good thirty minutes, but there is an open invite! Anyone who signs up in the next twenty minutes shall be able to attend, and we do ask, this is not for the faint of heart! Injuries can and do happen, so make sure you’re not doing it just to just impress the girlfriend!” The announcer called out, to a few laughs in the crowd.

Fiona kept getting that tingly sensation on her wrist. She wondered what it meant, but her eyes were set on the melee that was being prepared. She kind of wanted to join, but she was in clothing far too cute to attempt it today. “Now, for all you individuals wondering, what is the prize? Well, I think I’ll introduce a lovely young talent that you all know quite well.”

“Holy cats, is that–is she–oh my,” Bonnie gasped, and pointed to the stage, where a rather discreet coach had pulled up in a steam automaton. The announcer gestured to the open door, and someone walked out that surprised even Fiona.

Approaching the stage with silky brown hair, long legs, and a ravishing red dress that both hugged the curves and still appeared quite modest, was Princess Lucy, accommodated by a few lightly uniformed agents of the crown, looking far too serious to her calm demeanor.

Fiona was popular almost everywhere she went, but everyone adored Lucy, and Fiona leaned in as the crowd went wild. Lucy could have easily taken her father’s throne, and she suspected it was because she didn’t want to be burdened down, have to get married, and give up fun times. Bonnie snapped her fingers by her ear, and she flinched.

“Ooooh, is someone getting your attention?” Bonnie teased.

“That dress is more racecar red than you, Bonnie, how could she not get my attention? Oh, I love that cute jacket, too! Where does she shop?” Fiona asked aloud, while Bonnie gently slapped her on the back.

“Uh huh, nice deflection, Fi. Didn’t think the royalty were gonna pay a visit,” Bonnie commented while also clapping, and Lucy started to introduce herself. “Pretty sure she doesn’t shop at Jaycee’s though, that dress is from Melanie, the same lady that made yours. Not quite the same design, but it’s gorgeous.”

Bonnie’s description didn’t quite cut it, because the dress slowly shifted through various fall colors in small waves, from red, to orange, to gold and back to a royal purple, as flashy as anything Fiona had seen in the mid-afternoon sun.

Lucy hasn't called me yet, in the few weeks I've been back. Has she been avoiding me? They were sort of friends, considering her proximity to Greybeard. Fiona decided to wait, for now. Maybe she'd heard about her brother's antics? She would have appreciated a call, in retrospect.

“Hello and thank you, everyone! My brother was delayed a little bit this afternoon--Kingly stuff, so I came here to give you guys a warm welcome! And totally not because I heard Marita had her baked pies!” Lucy announced with the relay that the lizardman had been using. “This day is for all the heroes and citizens of Fiefdala, who work tirelessly to bring us this day of culture, festivities, and fun for everyone! And snacks! Someone I know was always talking about snacks–poor dad had to lock them up when she was visiting, in between defending our beloved kingdom!” she added to a series of laughs.

Fiona’s ears were burning at that comment, as were her cheeks. “I…I have a reputation?” she asked meekly. Bonnie broke out in laughter, unable to contain herself.

“Hah-hah, yes, Fi, you do! You are the snack ninja, based on that word you taught us!” she said, while Fiona tried to sink lower into her seat–it was more surprising more people hadn’t noticed their little group.

That was, until Lucy looked up at the stands, and pointed right at her, with a big, beaming smile. “Hi Fi, glad you could make it! Little favor? Come on down!”

Welp, so much for a small entrance, Fiona thought as everyone cheered and made an opening for her. There was no hiding, now.