Sara arrived in the capital towing more followers than she'd left with. Several of the vilge's tradesfolk, encouraged by her talk of an urban revival, had come to ply their wares.

  Sara had chatted with them frankly before they left, expining that business in the city wasn't what it once was, nor what it would eventually become. More specifically, it didn’t exist at all, and wouldn’t for some time. The only advantage of an early start came from getting to cim the best of the abandoned properties, many of which were already occupied by those that still lived in the ruins. The traders had come anyway, Sara’s speech of a Tulian revival rendering them eager to stake their cim.

  As a result, Sara had expected something of a surprised reaction when Ignite's guards posted atop the wall saw her returning at the head of a gaggle of vilgers.

  What she hadn't expected, however, was the sight of Ketch standing atop the wall in broad daylight, fists on her hips as she awaited their approach.

  While the two guards meant to monitor comers and goers disappeared into the stairwells to greet Sara's party, Ketch began skittering straight down the vertical face of the wall, webbed fingers and toes digging into loose stones and vine fifty feet above the ground below. Sara gave the azerketi girl an uncertain wave when she deftly reached the bottom, her smile faltering as Ketch began stomping towards her.

  "What have you done to me?" The girl hissed as she neared Sara. Her fists were balled, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  Sara took a step back, holding up her hands. "Woah, what?"

  "I said," Ketch ground out, jabbing Sara's colrbone with a finger, "What. Have. You. Done. To. Me? I--" She paused as she gnced about them, the curious gnces of nearby traders poorly hidden. Rather than continue, she snatched Sara by the wrist and began dragging her off the road, away from prying eyes.

  Sara had no idea what this was about, for once. Ketch seemed... not angry, really. Frustrated? Confused? Indignant? Likely a mixture of all three, Sara decided. Something had thrown her off bance, and she was falling back on old habits to process it.

  Fearing the worst, Sara leaned close once they entered the shade of the city walls. "Ketch, are you pregnant?" She whispered.

  Ketch's voice attuned an earsplitting pitch. "What?! No! Dear gods, why would you think that?"

  "Well, you said I did it to you, and considering all the--"

  "No! No, no I'm not pregnant. Gods, I--" Ketch huffed out a breath, raking hands through her short curls. Evie and Hurlish had followed, naturally, and though their presence gave Ketch pause, she steeled herself and pressed on. "Since I began entangling myself with you I have... advanced . Twice."

  Advanced? Oh, she means levels. Wait, really?

  Sara blew out a sigh of relief. "That's all? Congratutions, Ketch. That's pretty impressive, isn't it?"

  Face still burning, Ketch's mouth worked soundlessly. She looked to Evie, gesturing at Sara helplessly.

  Cool as ever, Evie stated, "Master, that is not just 'impressive'. It is impossible."

  Sara frowned. "I don't know about impossible. That's pretty close to how soon I leveled up after I arrived, if a bit quicker. Ketch, you were at level one when we met, right?"

  The rogue reached for a cloak that she no longer wore, trying to drape it dramatically about herself. Finding it absent, she less than subtly turned the gesture into a petunt crossing of her arms.

  "Ha! What makes you think that I was merely upon my first advancement when we dueled?"

  Sara and Evie shared dubious expressions, eying Ketch. Her arms crossed tighter as she looked up and away.

  "Well," she huffed, "Even if your insulting theory was correct, two advancements in a matter of weeks is still impossible. In a matter of days? Ridiculous. Foolish. Too stupid a tale to fool the most foolish, even." She turned back towards Sara, posture loosening, a shred of vulnerability crossing her face. "And yet, it happened. So I'll ask again, Sara. What did you do to me?"

  Sara was at a loss. Once she gave it some thought, she realized that Evie was right; there was simply no way Ketch could have leveled up twice since they met. Sara hadn't even managed that pace, and she was supposed to be the one wielding bullshit goddess powers. Ketch had certainly been utilizing her rogue skills much more often under Ignite's command, but the discrepancy was far from expined by mundane training.

  Sara gnced skyward. Hey, Amarat? Is this one of your things? Hello? Ring ring? Champion calling?

  There was no response. Sara sighed, opening her stat screen while she deliberated.

  "Honestly, Ketch, I've got no idea. I'm definitely the easiest expnation for why it's happened, but as for the particurs, I've got no idea. Amarat's not picking up her cell, and none of my abilities have anything to do with leveling up other people."

  Evie hummed, lost in thought. "You often compare your progression to that of a story, Master. Viewed in such a lens, the bolstering of those closest to you makes a certain thematic sense."

  "Alright, catgirl, you're getting a bit too self-aware there," Sara said, mostly sarcastic. "Sure, there's some isekai stuff going on here, but I'm actually living it. This isn't a fantasy."

  "Isekai?" Ketch asked, confused.

  Seeing both her girlfriends were too busy thinking things over, Hurlish was the one that answered. "Yeah, some type of story or book or whatever from back where she's from. Focused on kids getting shot to other pces and given crazy powers so they can go on adventures." Hurlish rolled her shoulders, giving Sara an affectionate pat atop her head. "Dunno why she thinks it's so wild she's living the same thing, though. Stories gotta come from somewhere, don't they? Prolly got started by some old Champion that went back home."

  "If those stories are based in truth, I feel sorry for your world," Sara murmured. "Most of their protagonists were hardly good people. Saved the day at the end, but they were entitled brats the whole way there. But I'm not going to go down that path, because trying to think of my own life as a story is a quick way to tying my brain in knots." She kept flipping through her stats, searching for any expnation. As she returned to the first screen, her eyebrows raised. "Oh, shit. Hold on a second. I actually leveled up, too. I'm level five."

  "Really?" Evie asked excitedly. It was clear Ketch's frustrations were forgotten as her tail swished with interest. She leaned against Sara's shoulder, staring where she stared, trying to discern what was visible to Sara only. "What have you gained?"

  "Uh... huh. That's weird. There's actually nothing different." She scratched her chin, reading things over. "Sorry Ketch, I'm not ignoring you. Give me a minute to see if something with my new level can expin what's up with you."

  Sara peered closer, inspecting the blue square. For such a simply designed little thing, it represented an awful lot. A full summary of her capabilities as a person, distilled into numbers and bels scribed in clean arial font. A little bit humbling, to know that it was possible to evaluate the total capacity of her immortal soul with such barebones accounting.

  Sara reached over to the bag of holding on Hurlish's hip and snatched out Evie's notebook, mentally pinning her stat block to its front. She flipped it over, viewing her spells.

  Cantrips

  Frost

  Warped Stride

  Static Charge

  Level 1 Spells

  Static Grip

  Empathic Link

  Level 2 Spells

  Soothe Emotions

  It had been a while since she'd reviewed what spells she had avaible to her, having long since committed the list to memory. With Ketch’s odd symptoms, if they could be called that, she spent a moment reviewing all she knew.

  What she'd learned by experimentation was that she could cast cantrips infinitely, but was limited to four uses of her more advanced spells per day. Having such strict limitations was unusual in this world, though that oddity was just another paradoxically expected aspect of Sara's css. Normal mages, if one could call any spellcaster 'normal', were mentally drained by the casting of spells, the complexity of their efforts requiring accordingly greater exertion. Overtaxing oneself with magic was akin to muscle strain of the mind, leaving the mage with a pounding headache and thick cotton fogging their thoughts for hours or days. Like their body, however, a mage's mind could be trained. Some mages chose to grow particurly adept with specific spells, sacrificing general capabilities in favor of powerful, rapid casting of a favored spell.

  Sara, on the other hand, could cast every spell perfectly, and it took from her nothing more than the breath required to invoke the incantation. She seemingly could cast her simplest spells, cantrips, without pause, from the moment she awoke to the moment she fell asleep. In exchange she was irrevocably limited, no amount of straining allowing her to cast a fifth spell of higher power, and she nearly entirely cked whatever sixth sense it was that allowed true mages to alter the manifestation of their spells. As she'd continued to poke and prod at the limitations of her bizarre Champion's abilities over the st few weeks, Sara was growing increasingly certain there was much of her css she wasn't properly utilizing.

  That said, even her inexperienced self could see that her most recent level up was different. Beneath the familiar spells was a new entry, unlike any she'd seen thus far.

  Second Level Spells

  ___________

  ___________

  Two bnk spots. The implication excited and intimidated her, because she had no idea what to do with it. Could she really just learn any spell? The variety of magic described by her companions seemed endless, and if the full expanse of magic was open to her, there would nearly always be some better choice to be made. Sara was so intimidated by the gulf of possibility that she had to beat back the urge to name some random spells she'd heard of and shove them into the slots. While defaulting to decisive action in times of crisis was usually helpful, this was a seriously long term decision she was facing.

  And there was still more. She returned to the screen that showed her more basic stats, scrutinizing the changes. Unlike normal, the six statistics that represented her most fundamental attributes had empty circles beside them. Like the bubbles on a multiple choice test, her Strength, Dexterity, Wisdom, Intelligence, Constitution, and Charisma were awaiting selection. To the right of the list were four dots of the same size, which she took to mean that she could make four selections.

  Sara finally blew out a long breath, raking her hair out of her face. "Sorry, Ketch. I didn't find an expnation. I've got some weirdness of my own going on, but it's par for the course Champion stuff. Not reted to your weirdness."

  The blue girl frowned, arms still crossed beneath her chest. The same style of bikini she always wore covered the barely perceptible swell of her breasts, but this set was a deep purple, contrasting well against the blues of her skin. Sara began to wonder where she'd gotten it, since she'd heard purple was a pretty expensive dye, then had to wrench her thoughts away, having long since got caught staring.

  The azerketi's reply was tinged with smugness. "That's unfortunate. I'd begun to wonder if you were contempting anything other than my chest."

  "In my defense, it's a very nice chest. But no, I was focusing. At least until the end. Cute top, by the way."

  "Thank you. But do you have anything beside fttery to offer?"

  "Not at the moment, sorry. But it's a positive change, isn't it? I thought I noticed you sneaking around better before I left, so maybe it started even then?"

  "I had indeed advanced at that time, but thought little of it. The timing was early for my second advancement, as it had been only two years since I first attained my css, but I took it proof of my skills. It was only the subsequent advancement, which occurred shortly after you left, that struck me as so queer."

  Heh, 'queer', Sara chuckled to herself. Then her eyes widened. Wait. Two YEARS for a single level? And I'm level five in... what, three months? Man, I really need to have Evie give me the birds and the bees talk for this stuff.

  "I guess we'll have to take it as a happy coincidence for now, unless something else crops up. I know it's supposed to be a private kind of thing, but do you think you could tell me if you level up again? Maybe we can figure out what triggers it."

  "Considering the taboo is already vioted, I suppose it won't matter if I debase myself further. In the meantime, unless you have something for me to do, I'm going back into the harbor." Ketch scowled up at the noon sun. "I'm not as fragile as my father, but this heat is awful for my skin."

  Sara was about to tell her to head home, but Evie spoke first.

  "Did your partner manage to heal the wounded sailors? There was indeed a healer in the vilge we visited, but we did not ask them to come to our aid."

  Sara bit her cheek, slightly embarassed. After Ketch had said her girlfriend could heal people, she'd mentally ticked off 'injured sailors' as a problem resolved. She hadn't even considered asking the vilge's healer to follow them back just in case, which probably would've been prudent considering Ketch's hesitations.

  Thankfully, Ketch nodded. "It was something of an ordeal, getting it all arranged, but Selly managed. The sailors mastered their panic in short order."

  Hurlish raised one overrge eyebrow. "Panic? What kind of girl you got hiding in that harbor of yours?"

  "An intimidating one," Ketch blithely answered. "I'm sure you'll all meet her in time. She's rather curious about meeting a Champion, naturally."

  "Well hurry her along," Sara said. "The only healers I've properly met have been creepy Sporatan priests. It'll be nice to meet one with a level head on their shoulders."

  Ketch's face twisted. "About that. If you're looking for a levelheaded healer, Selly is... Well. Don't get your hopes up too high."

  "Ominous, but intriguing. You two can drop by whenever."

  "I'll send warning, at the very least. I'll likely see you some time tonight, even if Selly isn't with me."

  Sara waved her off, watching the now up-leveled woman retreat through the abandoned city gates. Ignite's guards had only just reached Sara's group of merchants, so she rejoined them to begin offering advice and expnations.

  Her return from the outskirts of Tulian was, in many ways, not that different from pin old normal work. Bordering on the boring, even for her own world. She felt less like a ‘Divine Champion’ and more like a midlevel manager, stuck onboarding the new employees while sending off reports on other duties between breaths. Thankfully some of the merchants were actually familiar with Tulian from the old days, so they were quick to head for the previous markets and city sections that their professions had once occupied. Sara didn't know if the new Tulian would end up following the old's pattern, but it wasn't her job to specute. Escorting them around the city was PR more than anything, assuring the first re-settlers that she was really invested in the city's success.

  By the end of the day Sara felt like she'd traipsed down every alley and every street of the city, her feet aching and sore. She'd managed to squeeze in time to drop by the warehouse and inform them of the deals she'd brokered, but could do little else as she focused on getting her new craftsmen settled in. In her absence Ignite put together a small band to escort a pair of carts full of the promised goods to Voth's vilge, pnning to use it as training for caravan duty, a common job for municipal guards.

  Sara had reached their warehouse base at the end of her long day to find Ignite still absent, along with his troops. Mildly concerned, but confident in his abilities, she'd thought little of it. When hours more passed without his return, however, and evening became night, her worry grew. Thoughts of Voth's difficulties with jungle beasts returned to her mind, as well as the more mundane concerns of banditry or accidents.

  To her immense relief, Ignite did eventually return, and with the full compliment of troops he'd left with. They were exhausted, dirty, and ready to colpse, but the slouch in their step didn't come from battle. With his once gleaming roman-esque armor covered in mud from head to toe, Ignite had dragged himself up to the warehouse exterior and snapped off one final crisp salute before colpsing into the nearest chair.

  "Delivery completed without casualty, ma'am," he reported, tiredly picking at the straps that kept his armor secured. Sara watched his equally muddy soldiers slop their way into the collection of simple wooden chairs that served as a gathering area outside the warehouse. Most began peeling off their soiled clothes to tiredly toss aside, roughly slinging their boots and equipment into scattered piles. She did note that not a single one did the same with their weapons, however, as they each straightened themselves for just the amount of time required to properly unbuckle their sheaths and set them aside.

  "Without casualty is good, but I'm guessing it wasn't without issue," Sara ventured.

  "Correct, ma'am." Ignite went to wipe sweat from his brow, then scowled, disgusted by the thick yer of mud clinging to his fingers. Scraping it on the wood of his seat, he continued on. "The four oxen we used to haul our carts proved troublesome."

  There was a chorus of rumbling groans from his troops.

  "Very troublesome," he amended. "I have not lived in a pce that allows beasts of such incredible ill repute to travel among men. It seems that the couple I took to be farmers were in fact mere gardeners, and used the beasts not for bor, but as guard dogs, of all the damnable duties."

  Sara pursed her lips, hiding the smile she felt building.

  "Such oxen, trained as they were to deter strangers, took poorly to the task of being escorted by said strangers. As I have since learned upon returning the contemptible creatures to their owners shortly ago, they have never once been harnessed."

  "So," Sara licked her lips to hide her grin, "Was it a good training mission?"

  Ignite's eyes rolled, militant discipline sanded away by his exhaustion. "The muscles required, at the very least, was remarkable. To direct the beasts was more exhausting than hauling the carts ourselves would have been." He shifted in his chair, turning to address the soldiers as much as Sara. "I think we will all have been made stronger by the experience, so long as we do not have any deserters come the morning."

  There were a few weak chuckles, a reassuring sound that Sara recognized. It was the kind of bone-deep weariness that, while miserable in the moment, was borne from an experience that would make for an excellent story in the coming days.

  Scanning over the group, she was also reassured about more nebulous concerns. All of the guards were irritated, exhausted, and half ready to never be seen in uniform again, but crucially, so was Ignite. If anything, he was the most tired and dirty of any of them, his expensive set of pristine armor smeared dull by mud. Considering the level discrepancy between Ignite and his troops, that didn't just mean he'd put his fair share in, it meant he'd likely been doing the lion's share of the work. In this world, that was exceptional for a military officer. Evie had expined in great detail the ins and outs of the Sporatan military, and Sara could say with certainty that no noble with a purchased officer's commission would have come back with so much as a fleck of dust on their clothes. Either the Carrion Navy was more egalitarian, or Ignite himself was a remarkable man. As she eyed the group, she mulled over what to say to them. When they'd all finally settled into their seats, she gathered their attention by stepping forward.

  "While it might not yet feel like it, you all did good work today," Sara began, slipping a sliver of Ignite's military precision into her words. "Most wouldn't have completed the caravan run, and even those that did likely wouldn't have had the self control required to bring the animals back to their owners alive." She allowed herself to grin. "I certainly wouldn't have." A few scattered chuckles. "It reflects well on you, and as you're the new city guard, it reflects well on Tulian." She turned to the slumped Ignite. "While specifics are of course yours, I'd like to formally recommend these folk for leave to recover, both out of practicality and as a reward for their good work."

  Ignite tiredly nodded, giving a thumbs up. "I second your recommendation, ma'am. All present have their duties rescinded tomorrow."

  A second wave of relief flowed through the group, postures rexing further as relieved sighs slipped loose.

  With that nagging concern settled, Sara made for the makeshift bedroom they'd assembled within the warehouse. She passed some of the other guards bustling through the building, those that hadn't been on Ignite's ill-fated journey.

  They were busy unloading the delivered carts, arms piled high with goods. Bolts of sailcloth and dried rations were being sorted into neat piles up against the interior walls, while lumber and other things too heavy for a thief to quietly pinch were stacked outside under newly-acquired tarps. She gave them a grateful wave, satisfied by the way they did little more than nod in response. It had taken an exhausting number of reminders before people had stopped dropping what they were doing to bow or curtsy as she passed, but they were getting there. Evie worried that abandoning the practice would hurt the esteem they held for Sara, but her gut told her it was just the opposite.

  Though they may occasionally disagree on certain matters like that, Evie's advice was still one of Sara's most treasured resources, which was why she was seeking it now. The catgirl greeted Sara's entrance to their room with no more than a quick gnce, returning quickly to the ledger she held. She was sitting cross-legged on their travel mattress, using the side of Hurlish's head as a rest for the book. It looked awfully convenient, as the dozing orc was already using Evie’s p for a pillow.

  "Ignite returned safely, I assume?" Evie inquired, not looking up from the ledger.

  "Sure did. I shouldn't have been worried."

  "It's your nature, Master. Quite endearing, at times."

  Sara began the process of undressing, kicking off her boots while activating the enchantments that let her peel her armor away like putty. "At times? So it gets on your nerves, sometimes?"

  "On occasion. Like when you have to be physically restrained from charging into suicidal combat, for example."

  "Hey," Sara protested, "You didn't have to physically restrain me. I listened."

  "Barely," Hurlish snorted, eyes closed. "Not that Evie was much better, mind you."

  "Excuse me?" Evie tapped the spine of her book against Hurlish's cheek reproachfully. "I was in charge for the entire operation. Any restraint we showed was a direct result of my orders."

  "How 'bout when you took off running the first moment you thought you could get away with it? Didn't even give us any warning."

  Evie turned her nose up primly, though Hurlish couldn't see. "It's not my fault you're unfamiliar with analyzing the tides of battle. You should have known when I would begin."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Hurlish breathed softly, shifting under the covers. Judging by Hurlish's loose-limbed sprawl and her refusal to rise to Evie's bait, Sara's girlfriends had found their own entertainment while she kept watch for Ignite. Sara finished undressing, crawling naked onto the bedding beside Evie.

  "So, before we get too involved, I need some advice from y'all."

  Hurlish blearily opened her eyes, while Evie paused in her evaluation of the ledger.

  "Like I said, I leveled up again. Unlike st time, though, I've been given some choices." At that, at least, Hurlish's interest was clearly piqued. Not enough to raise her head out of Evie's p, naturally, but she still looked interested. "First off, is that normal? Having choices with your level? Because I haven't had any so far."

  "What d'ya mean by choices?"

  "If I'm understanding things right, I can choose four of my basic stats to upgrade. Which, because I know looking at your stats works differently for everyone, means I can choose between improving my strength, dexterity, constitution, intelligence, charisma, or wisdom."

  Evie shook her head a little bit, a fondly bewildered smile on her face. "Ah, here we are. A Champion's absurdity at st showing its truest form. With a simple thought, you can simply make yourself smarter, stronger, or more wise. Utterly preposterous."

  "I mean, we don't know if that's how it works," Sara said. "I'm pretty sure the way I interpret my stats is based off some games people pyed in my old world, and in those each of those numbers had specific effects. Like, for example, 'intelligence' usually means you're better at casting spells, whereas 'wisdom' is more about seeing through lies and illusions or something. Charisma, strength, and dexterity are pretty self expnatory, and I think constitution is about how hard I am to kill or poison and stuff."

  Hurlish yawned, then smacked her lips. "So even if it doesn't really make you smarter or wiser, it still sounds like a pretty big deal. Getting better at any of that stuff sounds helpful."

  "Indeed," Evie agreed. "And you said you can choose four of the six to improve?"

  "Yeah, but that's not all. There's also something weird with my spells. Y'know how I told you guys I hadn't ever had to learn a spell, it was just given to me? Well, now I've got two bnk spots. I'm betting that means I can choose any two spells to learn, which is pretty crazy."

  "Y'sure it's any spell?" Hurlish asked. "Because there's been some pretty crazy mages. Like, I bet you can't just learn one of the spells that blows up a mountain. Even a Champion has to work to get to that point, from the stories I've heard."

  "Yeah, I doubt I'll be putting Garen to shame any time soon. But even limited, it's a pretty huge deal. I haven't found out any way to change my spells so far, except for leveling up."

  "Then you are correct to mention Garen, Master, because I doubt either of us are wisened enough in the arcane to properly advise you. A permanent selection of which spells are in your repertoire is something that should be decided only after consultation with an expert."

  Sara let out a pitiful noise, half whine and half groan. "Ugh. I know you're right, but it's so boring to put it off. I want to do new stuff now, not ter."

  "I am sorry that the slightest measure of patience is mediating the development of your absurd potential, Master. It must be miserable indeed."

  "Oh, shut up," Sara grumbled, though she didn't mean it. "What about the stats? That's at least something that we can decide ourselves, right?"

  "I don't see why not. What do you think, Hurlish?"

  The orc slowly blinked, chewing on the idea. "Well, if you're gonna only be a Queen or whatever, it doesn't make much sense for you to be beefing your fighting skills very much."

  Evie rolled her eyes. "While true, I think all present are aware of how unlikely it is for Master to abstain from conflict."

  "I am what I am," Sara said with a shrug, unashamed. "But you're right that my css seems to be based around diplomacy first, fighting second. It's only because I'm a Champion that I can still hold my own in a fight."

  "Speaking of which, Master, what are your current statistics? It wouldn't do to improve something which you already excel at while ignoring that which is cking."

  "Oh, yeah, you guys don't know that. My Strength is 18, my Constitution is 12, my Wisdom is 10, my Dexterity is 12, Intelligence is 14, and Charisma, of course, is 20."

  Evie smirked. "Of course Charisma is your greatest skill."

  "Were you expecting anything else from Amarat? But actually, though. What do you guys think?"

  Hurlish yawned again, snuggling closer to Evie's thighs from under the covers. "I think I'm tired. You don't need to do it right now, yeah?"

  "I don't think so."

  "Then let's sleep on it. Big choices aren't the best thing to tackle tired."

  Sara threw her head back, groaning. "God, you two are so practical it'd be infuriating, y'know, if you weren't totally right."

  "Oh, boo-hoo, princess," Hurlish said. "Evie was right. You're too impatient for your own good."

  Above the orc's resting head, Evie's eyebrows raised. "Agreeing with me of your own volition, Hurlish? My performance earlier must have been exceptional, indeed."

  "Can it, kitty."

  Despite the brusque tone, Sara could see Evie preen slightly. A disagreement won against someone as stubborn as Hurlish was nothing to scoff at, no matter how minor. Sara grumbled some more while Evie maintained her pleased air just out of Hurlish's sight, but eventually accepted that they were right to give it more time to settle. In the meantime, Sara leaned over and looked at the work Evie was returning to.

  "Having fun making that budget?"

  "Though you speak sarcastically, it really hasn't been much of a bother. We're so starved for income that I've done little more than look at each prospective expenditure, acknowledge that its weekly cost exceeds our entire coin reserve, and move on. While Nora's raiding will hopefully earn a profit, until she returns we have exactly no means of generating income."

  Sara blew out a long breath, thumping her head onto Evie's shoulder. It was an awkward angle, with how much shorter the catgirl was, but the soft warmth was worth it.

  "What about, like, taxes?" Sara inquired, though the words tasted bitter. "I'm trying to be a government, after all. Can't we do something there?"

  "Not as I understand taxation, Master, as it will not be the harvest season for some time yet. The single vilge that we've interacted with is still unlikely to accept our reaping of their product, and we obviously ck the military required to enforce our demands."

  "What does harvest season have to do with it?"

  Evie's ears took on a confused tilt. "Harvest is when the rural tax is collected, Master. Every Lord and Lady is required to provide an allotment of their nd's value to the kingdom, the source of which is the peasantry working their nds."

  "So what, they just give the king a bunch of food, and then he sells it off?"

  "No. They pay in coin, and are free to sell their crop to make up the loss as they see fit."

  "But the actual farmers themselves, they don't get to keep anything?"

  Evie frowned and marked her pce in the ledger, setting it aside. Sara held back her groan, because she knew what was coming. Evie's back had straightened, her girlfriend's train of thought leading her to fall back into old habits. Sara could practically see the daughter of Sporatos' most successful merchant building a lesson pn in her head.

  "Master, there are several forms of taxation across the continent, and while I cannot speak to truly foreign economic systems, the most common legistive systems distinguish between two primary revenue streams. What is colloquially referred to in Sporatos as an urban tax, properly known as a poll tax, is based upon the premise of..."