With her new level, she stood and headed out, but one of the three Fighters who'd been praying here with their new trophy stopped her. "I like the colors, Aves. Where'd you get that?"

Selen smiled and tugged at her sash. "This? I made it myself. Earned my first Alchemist level with it, just now."

"Think you could make me one like it?" He flashed a gold coin, considerably more than it was worth.

"Sure!" They talked colors and size, and Selen went away whistling. A good start to an Alchemist career!

#

She worked and worked. The Two Hoots basement crew wanted to get in on the cloth-dying business because several other people wanted to buy the stuff, attracted by a hanging display that Dad put up in the inn's common room.

"It might be better to hire somebody else, if I have to expand," said Selen, sitting around that room on a slow night.

Newroot said, "Aw, why? There's money to make. You don't think we can do it?"

Selen twitched her tail and fidgeted. "It'd mean mixing business with family. Not just us being co-workers, but having our own side business."

Red-feathered Sunflare said, "We could work on it together and have some fun."

The Human girl chimed in. "There's not much room for it though. Where would we even put the vats? Bluemoon was not happy when you got ink on those letters."

Selen winced at one of her early mistakes. "I might have to commandeer space upstairs --"

"Where I can't go," said Newroot, tapping one hoof.

"Or find a room for rent nearby."

Sunflare said, "Maybe we can find someplace. If we do that, will you help us with the funding and the Alchemy tricks?"

They all looked eager. Selen hated to turn them down. "Yeah, all right."

#

Selen pestered Aunt Tradewind for supplies. She was the one able to deal with the river traders bringing all sorts of goods along the Starry River and from inland. Some dyes from the sea were outrageously expensive, but she was coming up with alternatives that might make her a profit apart from the sale of finished cloth. She was already afraid of running afoul of the city's small Tailor Guild. She might be forced to join that too, if she got too popular. But she didn't want to be a clothier.

[Skill gain: Fashion (Charm)], said the System one day, when she'd finished showing off wares to a friendly white Centaur mare who dealt in cloth. Selen snorted. "This isn't why I'm here."

Up in her room, she paced, letting one of her experiments bubble. She turned in the little space, with her wings folded behind her. "So there's the dye project. Basic chemical science to reinvent. Potion-making. The Mage Guild offer. Actual Mage levels. And that's without recreating any books and getting more printing presses up, or making batteries or steam engines or doing anything at all to improve the lives of anybody. Dear God why did you put me here?"

There was a soft knock on the door. Selen said, "Yes?"

Tradewind leaned in. She wasn't wearing her usual turban, which let Selen see the patch of ruined feathers on one side of her head where she'd been scarred in the war. "You're muttering again."

Selen blushed. "I'm scatterbrained. Wait! No, I am not going to let this boil dry." She turned to the chemical burner she'd rigged on her desk, and triumphantly shut it down at the right time.

Tradewind said, "I was going to remind you there's a big delivery run tomorrow. All wings on duty."

She sagged. "I'd forgotten that. I'm overwhelmed."

"It's fine for someone your age to try many things, but maybe you should slow down. I don't think you're sleeping enough."

"But I don't know what to do. I could be of some use with a bunch of different things, but there are too many."

"Your generation hasn't got a disaster to focus on. Be glad. What you should do is pick just one or two projects for now." She tilted her head. "Perhaps one of them should have bright red feathers?"

Selen blushed and covered her face. "I don't even know. I should be in high school, getting shoved into lockers or something."

"In what?" said Tradewind.

Selen flapped in frustration, lifting slightly off the ground. "Imagine that you've seen another world with ten thousand things different about it, and you might be able to bring some of them here but you're just one bird. What do you do?"

Tradewind spoke quietly. "How clear are these visions you had?"

"Enough that I know some of the history and alchemy. That's why I want to recreate them."

The older bird studied her quietly. "The gods can't be expecting you to do everything. You have many years to work, so I still say to try a few things at a time. Remember that you'll need to do more and more impressive feats to earn more levels, so that's a good reason to start small."

Selen nodded. Recreating some complex plastic would get easier if she had a stack of Alchemy levels, which she could only earn by easier projects. "I imagined I'd have one specific goal, though, if I was given all this."

"The gods are mysterious," Tradewind agreed. "Be patient, and make yourself worthy of whatever comes." She patted Selen on the head and jumped off the balcony, to go out to her shop.

Selen checked on her experiments once more. The latest beaker's contents had condensed into a grey goop. She fished it out and dropped it, and it bounced. A form of rubber, as planned. As with some other things she'd asked about, it existed but wasn't yet widely available. It was something, anyway! She might not do anything heroic with it, but it could make other people's lives better in a variety of ways. Bouncing balls, raincoats, mechanical gaskets.

Before going to bed, she shut everything down. She didn't want to get blown up and maybe put some other soul in charge. But she also took up one of the more paint-like dyes she'd been working with, and drew on the inside of her bedroom door. A simple cross design, kind of a reminder. She might never learn why she'd been given wings. But whatever plan was at work, she should at least be diligent and grateful.

Her feathers prickled and her cheeks burned. What if her family asked in detail about it? What could she possibly say to them? She'd sound insane. They knew nothing of the context. She picked up her brush again and modified the design, carefully turning it into an Egyptian kind of thing. A pair of scales weighing a toony heart and a feather, a divine judgment of one who'd earned an afterlife. That symbol was at least distanced from her own real culture, but still sort of true.