"Now, I know that sounds ridiculous, and obviously we're not going to do this tonight." She responded. "But they aren't going to just give us a blood testing machine if we ask nicely, now, are they?"

Karrel nodded slowly. "I'm pretty sure those things are only allowed for people like that guy from Administration. Ugh, I hate that you're right. But how would we even go about this?"

"It may come as a surprise, but I'm not really a criminal mastermind, so I know nothing about preparing a heist. At most I may know the basics of magical security." Trader shrugged.

"I'm not sure if you know even the basics." Said a voice from a corner of the room.

Trader immediately turned that way and extended her claws, while Karrel summoned his sledgehammer.

"You better come out now if you know what's good for you." The symbiote said, her voice filled with venom and her mind filled with a chorus of "I told you so"-s.

The voice laughed, and a moment later a silhouette appeared. It was none other than Isabella.

"You guys are so lucky I'm not an assassin or something, otherwise you'd both be dead." She said.

Trader lowered her arms. "Isa? What are you doing here? Wait, how much did you hear?"

"Enough to know that you guys are using illegal magic and are planning to steal from the duchy officials." The alchemist responded like she was talking about the weather.

Trader sighed, her hand massaging her forehead.

"What do you want?" She looked at Isa with pleading in her eyes.

"I want in." The interloper said with a smile.

"...what?" Karrel stammered out.

"I want in," she repeated, "on this whole dragon blood business. Do you know how long it's been since something interesting happened around here? It's always the same! The Tiammarrs tighten the screw on the common folk, a rebellion breaks out, a few lesser nobles throw in with the rabble, the change is unmade, but the rebellion suffers such bloody losses that people quickly fall back in line, and nothing really changes. The same old song and dance. But if the commoners had the power of a dragon on their side? That could shake up not just the duchy, the whole empire would boil over! The king would have to intervene, and when was the last time he did anything?"

"Wait a second." Karrel interrupted. "You talk about rebellions like they happen all the time, but the last revolt was, like, fifty years ago. Who are you? What are you?"

Isabella blushed, and covered her mouth with a palm like a small girl that had just been scolded for poor manners.

"Oops, I let a bit slip. But you know, I kind of followed your lead." She looked him in the eyes. Her scleras turned black as the darkest night.

"I think we should all sit down and talk." Trader said.

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

"So, first things first, I'd like everyone to introduce ourselves. Without omitting anything important, this time. I'll start. My name is Trader Fleshforger, third generation. I'm a parasite, and I have no memories from before two days ago. My desire is to find whoever is responsible for me appearing here and figuring out why they did so." The blue humanoid spoke, thus establishing what information others should reveal.

"I'm Karrel Damorny, of the seventh generation. I'm a human, and I've been forbidden from marrying my girlfriend. I desire to become a dragon." Karrel said.

Both of them looked at Isabella.

"I am known as Isabella Clavillium. I am a demon, banished from the Sixth Hell for participating in a coup. My greatest desire right now is to see something interesting, like an uprising with a chance of success." When she spoke, she held her head high. Trader didn't fail to catch the use of "I am known as" instead of "my name is".

"Now that we're on the same page, what are we going to do?" Trader asked.

"Well, I could report you two to the guards and they'd execute you." Isabella raised one hand palm up.

"Or," she raised the other hand, "I can join your little conspiracy and take a slice of the pie once all is said and done."

"I don't know if you realise, but we aren't planning to topple the freaking emperor." Karrel interjected. "I just want a raise in status so I can marry Lucienne. There's not going to be much of a pie to slice."

"Then why does Trader help you?" The demoness wondered.

"We struck a deal. He will help me find out who blocked my memories and dropped me from the sky." Trader answered.

Then she sneezed.

"Sorry, there's something… in the air…" the symbiote sniffed around. "...Mind mana. You little shit, you cast something on us, didn't you?!"

Trader stood up and raised a clawed hand, preparing to take a swipe at Isabella.

"I admit, I did pull your tongues a little bit." The offender said, raising her arms in surrender. "It's only fair, though. Demons can't lie, you know? So I leveled the playing field, and now no one can lie."

"Turn it off now. I've got enough stuff messing with my head as is." Trader demanded.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Fine." The demon responded and waved her hand, dissolving the mana constructs she placed on their minds. "Good catch. I'm interested whether your species possesses mana sense innately, or is that something you've learned?"

"Why should I tell you?" Trader barked back. Now that her mind wasn't influenced, she was much more wary of the literal fiend in front of her.

"Because we're partners in crime now, aren't we? Or would you rather I put a stop to all this before we really have a chance to do any real crime?" Isa smiled. Her teeth were just a bit too big for a human. Especially the canines.

Trader groaned and sat back down, rubbing the sides of her head.

"Oh come, now." The demon commented. "I assure you, our partnership will benefit all three of us."

"I have just been told not to trust demons, so forgive me if I don't buy that for a second." Karrel responded. "And how do we know that it's even true that you can't lie? You can't prove a negative." He crossed his arms.

"They can't." Trader said quietly. "Demons are desires incarnate. While each one has something they are focused on, all possess an analytical curiosity towards the world. If they were to lie, their knowledge seeking instincts take over and they'd explain to everyone around, in detail, how what they just said is incorrect."

Isabella nodded in confirmation. "It's more of a gloating thing, in a way. «Let me tell you exactly how I just fooled you!». Of course we still try to lie when we're young and think we can overcome our nature. It's a sign of immaturity to fall into a liar's thesis. I grew out of it fast, my vice is specifically pride. A lie would incapacitate me for hours." She chuckled.

"Okay, that still doesn't make me trust you." The artificer commented. "You can still refrain from telling the whole truth, stab us in the back, and so on. There's a reason there's all those stories about the folly of making a deal with a devil."

"Good! You should never trust a demon to tell you everything." Isabella commended him. "But you can always trust us to follow our desires. Indulgence is what gives us strength, and with more power we can indulge even further. And, as I've said, my desire is that of pride. Specifically, pride in successfully orchestrating a small change that then cascades into a huge avalanche of unrelenting revolution. Rooting for the underdog is what I do. And a common human becoming a dragon for the sake of love? Delicious!" The demon actually licked her lips, which sent a shiver down the backs of both Karrel and Trader, though each for slightly different reasons.

"So," Trader recovered herself, "you want to help us, because that will give you more power and satisfaction?"

"Exactly!" Isabella grinned. "But I'll try to alter things as little as possible. Holding your hand the whole way would defeat the point."

"That's fair. So, as you've probably overheard, we're going to steal a bloodline analyzing machine. Any chance you'd help us out?" The symbiote asked.

The demoness tapped her fingers on the table.

"You're not strong enough. But you knew that already." Isa started. "A heist is sixty percent planning, five percent execution, and the rest is improvising when the plan inevitably collapses in contact with the enemy. You have no plan, and no skills to execute one. You need data. Where's the thing you're trying to grab? What's the security like in there? Weak spots? How to get in, and, more importantly, how do you get out? And how are you going to deal with the aftermath? They won't give up on this thing easily."

"Oh, Goddess." Karrel sighed, grabbing his head with both hands. "And I have orders to complete, too."

"We don't have a deadline. We can do a little bit every day, and strike when we're ready. In a month, or few." Trader tried to comfort him. It worked a bit.

"Patience is the most important quality for an immortal to acquire." Isabella commented. "I'll be sure to help out, though of course the execution falls entirely on you. I'll take my leave now, I have something in mind already." She stood up and went for the door.

"In that case, I'm gonna go back to the order. See you soon. And thank you, I guess." Karrel turned back to the table with his current project.

Trader stayed seated for a while. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do. She had already made the potions for Karrel and Isabella, and she didn't have a sparring partner, since Karrel was busy. She was pretty sure the demoness wouldn't want to, either.

[Patience is important, huh? But there's patience, and then there is just wasting time.] She thought.

Finally, she decided she could deliver the armor she helped Karrel make earlier.

"Is there anything regarding etiquette I should know so they won't hang me?" She asked when grabbing the chest that held the Carapace.

"Introduce yourself with your full name and bloodline. Wait until you're addressed by the baron. You don't have to bow, as you're apparently of noble blood, but you still can if you want to show you treat them as your betters." The smith explained.

"Oh, fuck that." She shook her head.

He chuckled. "Yeah. I wish I could skip that, too." He wrote down something on a piece of paper and pushed a little mana inside to form a signature. "Take this so they'll believe I sent you."

She grabbed the paper, the chest, and headed off after asking for directions.

-

"The piece has been warded to repel acid and absorb impacts. The requested size-fitting enchantment is, of course, also present." Trader presented the beetle-scale armor.

The nobles of house Pendant quickly warmed up to her. Apparently, the Department of Administration has notified every noble family in the area of a "noble-blooded asylum seeker from distant lands." She was regarded as their equal. Liege Bello, the armor's recipient, even offered her lodging in their villa. Trader politely declined.

"Wow, it fits perfectly!" The young noble said after they put on the chest piece. "Let me see if it'll work with my beast form…"

The youth's body started shivering and contorting. Bones cracked as they elongated, and fur sprouted from between the scales. When the transformation was finished, Bello realized that the beetle-scale fit them as snuggly as before.

" 'onderful 'ork!" The werewolf growled, satisfied.

The shape of their snout made talking difficult, so they quickly returned to their normal, Dragonblooded appearance.

"My child appears satisfied with the item. Thank you for your work, miss Fleshforger, and do send compliments to mister Damorny." Lord Pendant, head of the noble house, said. "If you ever want to talk business, my doors are always open to you, miss Fleshforger."

"I'll be delighted to work with you in the future, sir." She nodded deeply, in an almost-but-not-quite bow, and turned to leave. On her way out, she was handed a decently-sized sack of coins - the promised payment.

This was the first time Trader regretted not owning "real" clothing. She had no pockets to put the money in, and walking around with a clinking bag in hand was just asking for trouble. Fortunately, there was a tailor nearby.

"Hello, I'd like a few sets of clothing. Nothing outrageously fancy, I'm aiming for good quality and practicality." She said to the store clerk.

"Right away, ma'am." The tall human woman replied.

After taking her measurements, the tailor pointed out a couple of ready outfits, and then also proposed ordering something special to be made later. Trader looked through the stock and discussed several different designs.

Eventually, the alien woman left the store in a light green tunic with a short skirt that didn't restrict her movement, as well as a belt-corset hybrid that accentuated her hips, and, more importantly, had built-in pockets. She would later have to return to the store to pick up an assortment of outfits she had ordered.

As Trader walked in the pleasant evening, she thought about the events of the day. She'd helped make a magical armor and delivered it to the nobles that ordered it, making a connection with said nobles, and earning her first funds. She had received proper documentation, or at least would in a few days, and uncovered a potential avenue to pursue the draconic awakening research.

And she's met a beautiful, wonderful woman to bond with over alchemy and intimacy. Except that woman had turned out to be a godsdamned demon, with whom she subsequently made a deal with.

[Holy shit,] she realized, [I fucked a demon.]