As Belladonna finished her story, Kino couldn't help but pity the ugly little creature a bit. Living with the fallout of one's hubris hurts like a sumbitch, and the remorse in the cat's mewling was real. Not that the alchemist felt any less inclined to give the tramp a good punt, mind you.
As Ewan chimed in about the Twin Princes, she wondered just how exactly the little boy had heard of such esoteric mythical beings. There was more to the urchin than there seemed, at least that much was certain. Was it that farfetched that there might be a grain of truth to the boy's outrageous claims of being some kind of former archmage? The odds still were that he was just an endearing scamp with a gift for bullshittery, but that wasn't exactly a hundred-percent sure bet now, was it? The alchemist's musings were rudely cut short as the cat addressed her.
"I can tell you've wanted to say something for a while. Spit it out, Beaky."
"Stow the jabs, furbag. Here's what I'm thinking. If your "Giftgiver" and Ewan's "Prince" are one in the same, and if my 'ol gramp's stories were true, then I've an idea about what happened to this Vanya of yours."
Seeing that she had Belladonna's attention, Kino continued.
"The Twin Princes, they're extraplanar tricksters. Ethereal gamblers. Eldritch dealbrokers. They collect the souls of mortals to use as gambling trinkets. Keep 'em stored in gemstones and use 'em as prizes for the games they play with each other. At least according to my alcoholic, Alzheimer's-ridden bastard of a grandfather, that is."
"But gramps knew his stuff. And if I'm right about this, your old master ain't moving on to any afterlife. Not while she's all bottled up inside a cosmic poker chip. But the Princes love themselves a gamble. Her soul might not be beyond your reach, if y'wanted to try 'n set things right. Try 'n let her... move on."
Kino concluded with a flourish of her hands.
"Well. Thoughts, mangebag?"