"We have to try these out. He definitely wasn't lying about them, but there's no way they're that expansive in how they could be used." I skip ahead of everyone else, out into the nighttime city. There's some light snow falling, and the sounds all around us feel muted because of it. That nice "under a blanket, hiding from the world" kind of muted. Scanning around, there's only one stall still open, as far as I can tell looking at the others. "Let's go there. It looks like it probably smells good."

  "Weren't you making a fuss over showing up places right as they're closing? That stall is obviously packing up for the night, Lil'."

  "Well, maybe that means they'll have some product they want to get rid of instead of throwing it out! Everyone knows that shopping at stalls is best done as they're closing. Right, Olly?" I spin around and start walking backwards, hopping down each short staircase as I do.

  He gets a very distant look, like he's looking at something that neither of us can see for few moments before he snaps out of it — making a small head jerk like someone just clapped in front of his face. "I think so, yeah. Though the story that that happened in that Ayre had at her cabin was specifically in a place where people were going hungry. Based on what Maxi said, I think it's pretty unlikely anyone around here is starving. But it can't hurt to give it a try."

  Well, it's not quite the level of support I was hoping for, but it'll do.

  "Excuse me! Are you still open? We missed dinner because we've been busy all day. We were curious if you might have something you could part with?" I spin back around and skip the rest of the way, hailing the presumed stall owner as I do. He's wearing a cooking smock displaying stitched words of "Mr. Coltos Donut Shop" and "Free hugs" among a few other pleasant looking statements. Altogether, at a glance, he looks like the sort of person who would slap his big, round, belly as the punchline of a joke, smiles easily, and probably has like seventy five grandchildren from fifteen children with… maybe… one significant other. Definitely just one. He gives off big "monogamous" energy.

  "Eh? You come in late, demand food?" His jowly, calico, face screws up into a look of supreme grump. His eyes don't change at all though. Frankly, with how scrunchy his face is, I don't know if he can see at all, but I feel he is looking right at me.

  Ayre moves forward, raising her hands in apology and pushing me back a hair to step ahead of me. "Ah, right, sorry. We weren't su-"

  As she begins to apologize in earnest — something frankly entirely unneeded, we just asked a question — the felid man bursts into laughter, the mien of grumpiness dissolving instantly to reveal a wide, fatherly grin. "No apologize. Kids hungry, kids eat. You like donuts? Supplies are low this late, but I can make some simple donuts. What are your names?" We introduce ourselves, Ayre a little uncomfortably — still reeling from the sudden shift in attitude. "Good to meet you. I am Colto Hurosa. Premier donut maker in Kharbon. Only donut maker in Kharbon. Nobody else made it. All donuts now."

  "Oh. Is business that cutthroat?" Olly, clueless as always, asks, which nets even more laughter from the felid donut-eer.

  "No, boy. Was joke! They are not donuts, they are at the bottom of the river." The stall owner ducks back into the stall proper, and rolls the flaps up to reveal the inside as he wanders to and fro, sending little pulses of essence into various devices.

  The stall has its whole interior covered with a bunch of machines — obviously essence powered. In fact, as the ones with big vats of oil start to bubble and hiss, I see some Ignia essence being pulled from Ayre and towards them, seemingly drawing on her much more dense source of essence over the loose stuff in the area.

  She watches, mesmerized for a moment before she panics and starts to actively draw on the essence to pull it back to her. Her eyes go wide and she clearly starts breathing harder afterwards, stepping back a few paces from the stall and turning away holding her hands to her chest and drawing her wings in. It's a quintessential "Ayre-ism" for how she responds to uncomfortable situations. As confident as she is in everything else, this is something she's never been able to break.

  "Excuse me a moment, Mr. Colto, sorry. Olly can you keep him company for a bit?"

  As I step away, Olly asks "Can I come take a look at that equipment? I've never seen anything like it before. How does it work?"

  I leave them as the grandfatherly felid starts to teach Olly animatedly after dropping some batter into the oil.

  "Ayre? You alright?" She flinches when I put a hand up on her shoulder, having to reach as I do.

  "Yeah, I'm fine, Lilly. Nothing to worry about. Thanks for asking. I think I'm gonna head back to the house." Lie, lie, truth, truth.

  As she moves, I grab her arm as gently as I can. "Hey, we're supposed to talk about problems, remember?" She can easily break out of my grip even if I were trying, so I hope she's not unsettled by the contact.

  She freezes, casting a deeply uncertain look over her shoulder at me and beyond to the stall where Olly has apparently been adopted by Colto.

  "Fine, Lil, sorry. I know how you feel about lies."

  "Ayre, please. If you count that as a worrying lie, I have nothing to worry about. What's wrong?"

  She gestures another few steps away where a bench lies and we make our way over and sit. Both of us sit after dusting snow off the bench, but Ayre all but collapses into it, hands clearly shaking despite her best efforts. "Okay… So, you remember when we first met? When you accidentally drew basically all of my Ignia essence out of me and it left me dangerously cold?" I nod, frowning. It was a day that I've always had mixed feelings about. I did it for with the best of intentions, but in my rashness to try to help, I put her in pretty dire straits — three times in a row. "Well, whatever those things are, when they turned on, I felt an enormous pull on my self. It pulled some Ignia out of me, but I felt the amount it was drawing ramping up fast. I can't even fathom what would need that much power or why it would draw from me, but it scared me. A lot." She holds her head in her hands, looking down as she explains. "Worse, it made me think of how Olly accidentally hurt me. And that took it from "scared" to "panic". I guess I'm still not quite over that."

  Seeing Ayre hurting is awful. Not that she's not entitled to her emotions. She's just always so strong and stoic — except when she's angry and beating stuff up. Seeing her looking vulnerable, her eggshell-fragile voice admitting this stuff out loud — something I know is hard for her — has me start feeling emotional immediately. I can't stand people around me being upset or sad.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  But, gratefully, thanks to being who and what I am, that's the opposite of an issue. The essence of the Fae is the essence of love, creation, whimsy, and kindness. Elysia, and it's perfect for situations like this.

  Tentatively, I lean over and wrap a hand around her waist and sidle over. She's too tall for me to hug around her shoulders at this angle, so this will do. Energy flows from me to her, suffusing through the point of contact as I pull myself in close and lean against her. I've done this a lot for her over the years when her situation of living alone got to her.

  I'm just glad it's always worked. I'm no good at talking about emotions with people. Much more of a "hug my friend till they're better" type of person. I just cheat because my hugs carry Elysia with them.

  Then again, maybe I'm not great at it because my hugs carry the essence of love with them…

  As I watch, the golden light worms its way through her scales and starts to distribute itself around her body, leaving her looking radiant for a short moment before it settles and does its work. Gradually, her face turns from distraught, to neutral, to a weak smile and she returns the hug. "I don't know what to say at times like this, Ayre, but I'll always be here if you need me."

  She draws in a deep breath, exhaling a plume of steam from the concentrated Ignia that leaks out with the exhalation. "Thanks, Lilly. I don't think there's anything to say, so this does just fine. If it's all the same to you, can you get the food for me? I really don't want to go back over there." One wing, the whole one, gestures forward towards the stall, where I see Olly is looking quite satisfied with himself and holding a handful of skewers with rings of some kind stabbed onto them, covered in colorful sprinkles.

  "Will do. You just relax, we'll head back to the house soon."

  I stand and return, and as I do, the stall is closing back down, apparently. Olly has been armed with an absurd number of the little pastries and seems to be struggling to tuck away his little tube of the chits after "paying" the man.

  "Sorry for taking so long. Fryer acting up. Oil got too hot, had to wait for it to cool. Hope you like them! Come back in future. I am here every day. But I must go, getting late, wife will worry."

  "Thanks very much. We'll make sure to come bac—" My words are cut off when I'm drawn into a crushing hug by the elder catfolk. It's the coziest hug I've had in a long time, even if it came unbidden. I just try to wrap my arms around him as best I can to return it. I do very poorly considering our relative… bulks.

  Definitely predicted his personality right. I love huggers.

  I wonder if Olly would be a hugger if he didn't have to deal with what he does?

  The thought makes me frown in spite of the warm hug, remembering Olly's reaction to my giving him a hug in thanks earlier. It feels like months ago after so much interesting stuff has happened today!

  But the donut peddler pulls away, making a round and giving everyone a hug in turn before traveling off into the snowy, dark, night, leaving us all standing around in the huge, wide open, area in front of the government building.

  "I tried one. I…got nothing in particular out of it other than the taste of Ignia from the sprinkles — he called them sprinkles. But he seemed certain you two would like them. He also promised to try to make me a special donut I might be able to taste. I didn't have it in me to tell him that that almost certainly won't happen, but it can't hurt to try, I guess." Olly sounds morose as well. Dealing with a total inability to taste things aside from their essence composition is one of the roughest things I think he has to deal with.

  A moment later and Ayre and I both have a stack of the things to ourselves.

  "Breath Divine! These smell wonderful!" What follows Ayre's exclamation is one of the most savage and thorough destructions of a dessert I've ever seen. I see a single bite, her eyes widen, and then she tears into the stack like a feral, underfed, beastslime.

  As I start to pick at my own — tearing off chunks to avoid getting my face covered in the glaze they're coated in — she snaps a look over at me, questioning. "No, Ayre, these are mine. Just because you didn't taste yours doesn't mean I'm giving mine up. Maybe you should chew next time."

  While she pouts, Olly says, "So, he took the chit with no problems or questions asked. And I'd say this sort of thing is the definition of a luxury. Sweet desserts aren't needed to live, so it answers my question, really."

  "So says you. If I don't get sweet desserts I'll probably die eventually." I offer.

  "I have to agree. Nothing Lilly ever brought me was fresh and warm like this. And the slight spiciness of the Ignia sprinkles? Perfection. It reminds me some thing Ma' made for my nameday once. Only it wasn't oil-fried, she fried it in distilled Ignia. Made the little cake very crispy and was only a little bit burnt before I got to eat it. It was also basically perfect. And what's more…"

  I settle in to listen as we start to head back home.

  I'll have to thank Mr. Colto later. I know another new way to fix up Ayre's mood now thanks to him.

  “So, who's sleeping where for tonight? We'll go get more stuff tomorrow, but for tonight, there's two beds.”

  It's incredibly late, as we spent the last few hours more fully scouring the house to make a List. It's important to note that it's a capital L in “List”. We fae love to make things proper nouns. It adds a bit of gravitas to anything for such little cost or effort. At times is it maybe lazy and unnecessary? Maybe. But it gets the job done.

  And when Ayre makes a List, it, without question, deserves to be a proper noun. She's thought of things I would have never in a million years that could be used here in the house. She even makes entries for ideas of things! She's made notes about magical devices that might exist for us to seek out — since enchanting is so commonplace, she's assuming these things must.

  It's crazy! I love her so dearly, but she's a neurotic mess sometimes.

  “You both should share a bed.”

  I tune back in to what she's been asking, something about sleeping arrangements, with what feels like a momentary heart attack. I ask, with the utmost of incredulity and an annoyingly warm and present flutter in my chest. “Why should we share a bed? You and I have napped together tons, Ayre.”

  Olly looks just as unsettled by the idea as I am, though I'm sure his reasons are entirely different and surely about something stupid like protecting me from his terrible curse. “I don't think me sharing a bed with anyone is wise. I know I don't roll around like you do, Ayre, but someone being that close to me while I'm not aware is a bad idea.”

  “Have you both seen the size of these beds? I'm going to fill that one up one and a half times. It's basically a children's bed. Even ignoring the fact that, as Lilly likes to point out, I roll around "like an alligator killing a deer" in my sleep, there is just going to be no space.”

  Why must she always make salient points?

  “I'll just put out my sleeping bag on the floor. It's no problem, Lilly can have the bed."

  "No, Olly, you sleep in the bed, I'll just shapeshift to my normal form and sleep on my throne." I gesture at the small cushion that Ayre, gratefully and rudely against my wishes, brought from her house in the woods when we left on this journey. Glad she did it! Mad she did it after I asked her not to.

  Ayre, unflappable as always, looks at me with heavily lidded eyes. "Didn't you say you were going to try to keep your essence usage to a minimum, 'lest my incredible power, impossible good looks, enthralling charm and many other delightful qualities draw the attention of people'? Nothing you do is subtle at a baseline, and I have to agree that you using your magic will draw eyes. If anyone is walking by and they feel an unfamiliar essence coming from the house it might draw attention. I don't know about you — but I don't want a repeat of the last time one of us got noticed for being odd. It wasn't a great time."

  The singsong mockery of my voice needles me. Ayre's speech is so unrefined that her trying to sound like me is absolutely, adorably, offensive. "You forgot to mention my peerless wit, Ayre. I thought you cared." I don't think her forked tongue can even manage the lilting tones of fae speech. "You are right though. Even simple cantrips of my magic will probably impossible to hide with this many people around… That means I'm stuck like this for the next long time, huh? So terribly tall! Sub-optimally stretched!"

  "While you two argue, I'll be over in the living room area, sleeping." Olly announces, fishing out his sleeping bag and pillow and walking out of the room, leaving Ayre and I looking at one another awkwardly.

  "He did it again." I offer in the silence that fills the room.

  "Did what again?"

  "Walked away from us in the middle of an argument, making a decision for both of us. You said you'd kill him if he did it again. He did it again."

  "Lilly, please just pick a bed."

  I've been in more than a bit of a funk the last couple months, so my has kinda fallen by the wayside. I'm planning to fix that today in case anyone happened to look at it and go "Ah yeah, that looks abandoned." You'd have been half correct, but I'm working on being better, and a lot of *stuff* is getting posted there soon