Thorin's First Thundersday of Harvestfall, 1442, City of Umbraholme.

Leoric stood before the weaver's guildhall—a looming structure of darkwood beams and shimmering silk banners, nestled beneath Umbraholme's interwoven canopy. Even after yesterday's visit, it still looked like something out of a fairytale. Lanterns dangled from long chains overhead, their glass chambers filled with softly-glowing phosphorescent fungi, casting eerie, shifting shadows on the mossy cobbles below.

According to his party interface, Vaelith was already inside, hard at work on crafting. He felt a pang of envy at her fast travel capabilities. Earlier, he had been out hunting in the Myrknar Woods—the zone just outside of the city—yet Vaelith had still beaten him to town.

Sometimes, he had to admit being slightly tempted to change class and learn teleportation magic himself. Still, Leoric enjoyed walking from city to city. There was something to be said for the quiet sense of presence it gave him. He got to see the world. Smell it. Hear the creak of branches and the chatter of wildlife. He would rather hike a mountain than skip to the summit.

Still... Vaelith's Recall ritual is pretty sweet. And while I'm fairly sure she'd drop anything she's doing to teleport me anywhere I ask—if I ever need a ride—I'll have to be careful not to take her for granted. She's a person, not a taxi.

He took a slow breath and adjusted the bulging sack slung over his shoulder. Inside were the fruits of last night's labour. His fingers still ached from the gathering, though he welcomed the soreness. He preferred the grind when it felt tangible.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside. Behind the counter, the burrovian woman from yesterday—the guild mistress, probably—looked up from her ledgers. She smiled in recognition. "Your friend's in the back. Here to pick her up? Shall I let her know you've arrived?"

Leoric stepped forward and shook his head. "No. I'm actually here to deliver some supplies she asked for." He swung the sack down from his shoulder and set it on the polished counter. "I was also hoping to borrow a bit of space. She wanted some custom leatherwork done."

"I see someone took my lecture on interdependence to heart." Her eyes twinkled as she gave the bag a cursory inspection. "What's in here?"

"Cotton bolls, mostly. I spent most of last night out in the Cumulus Fields. I had no idea how much raw fibre it took just to make a single bolt."

"To the untrained eye, a bolt of cloth might seem unimpressive. "But a hundred yards per bolt? It takes not only a lot of fibre, but a lot of hard work, too. Growing and harvesting it are essential steps. Without raw materials, there is nothing for us weavers to do."

"A hundred yards?" Leoric echoed, brows rising. He thought about Mel's workspace—racks of colourful spools and bundles arranged by texture and thread count. He had never really considered where any of it came from, and how much of it she owned.

Another thing we take for granted back home.

He grinned. "We're working on a big group project, actually. Two others are back in Luminara, handling accessories, dyes and such."

"Good. Very good." She nodded, approving. Then she turned her head, looking at an otherwise empty corner of the room. "Liranel? Would you mind the front for a moment while I show our guest in?"

The same sylvani woman from yesterday stepped out of the shadows without a sound. Leoric still failed to comprehend how someone so tall could move so silently. He only noticed her when she stepped fully into the lantern light, her hair catching the glow like starlight.

He studied Liranel for a moment, fascinated by the suddenness of her appearance. It was almost as if she had decided to become visible—like she had just allowed light to reflect off her. He wondered if this was what the stealth mechanic from the assassin class would feel like to other players.

Beats ranger camouflage any day. I really need to get my hands on that skill someday.

Leoric idly wondered how someone with skills like that ended up manning the front counter for a crafting guild. From his research into the level thirty class unlocks, he knew the assassin guildhall was located right here, in Umbraholme. It felt thematically fitting—hidden deep in a shadowy forest, in a city full of Shadow sylvani and Full-blood felinae. But the exact location of the guild eluded him.

After the sylvani took over the guild mistress' spot, the burrovian beckoned Leoric to follow and headed towards the double doors in the back. Leoric retrieved his bag and swung it over one shoulder. He nodded respectfully to Liranel, who returned the smallest of nods, then followed inside.

As they wound deeper into the guildhall, the scent of warm wool and oiled wood thickened in the air. The rhythmic clanking of looms echoed faintly through the corridors, accompanied by the gentle drone of spinning wheels. The place practically vibrated with motion and purpose, and Leoric found himself smiling at how busy it all felt. It was alive—less a workshop and more a living tapestry in motion.

"Impressive, isn't it?" the guild mistress said without turning. "How so many people can work at it, day after day, and still never run out of things to do?"

"It is," he replied, nodding. "And I can definitely see why you advocate for cooperation over doing everything solo. This is way more involved than I expected."

She stopped and turned to face him, smiling with a hint of pride. "I'm Sarnai, by the way. I don't believe I ever introduced myself."

Leoric smiled warmly, and they shook hands. "A pleasure."

Sarnai gestured down a side hall. "Your friend's tucked herself into the back corner over there, near the warded window. She said she wanted to stay out of the way."

Of course she did.

Vaelith always struck him as the kind of person who tried to take up as little space as possible—not out of fragility, but out of consideration. She always made sure others had what they needed before taking her own share.

"Thanks, Sarnai. I've got it from here." He gave a polite nod and headed down the hall.

Sure enough, he found her, sitting near a stained-glass window that barely let any light through. After all, the entire city was shrouded in near-permanent darkness.

Vaelith sat on a small stool, her sleeves rolled up and her hair tied loosely with a ribbon, focussed intently on her spinning. She was drawing thread from a wooden container of damp-looking fibre, her hands occasionally nudging the thread back into place.

"Hey," Leoric said, waving gently as he approached.

Vaelith looked up, blinking away from her task with a pleased smile. "Oh, you're here! Perfect timing. I was just about to run out of fibre."

Leoric dropped the sack on the ground in front of him. "Brought you some supplies. Got a bunch of cotton yesterday. I've also got you some boar meat, plus some of the leather you requested, but I'll need to process more of it to match your demands." He opened the bag and started sifting through it. "Oh, right. I've got some boar hides to deal with too."

He reached inside the bag and scooped out an armful of cotton bolls. "Where do you want them?"

"Right there is fine, thanks." She pointed to the ground next to the wooden vat.

She slowed her spinning and gave him a look over as he unloaded the results of his harvest, one big stack at a time. "… I can see why you picked Sheik", she said.

"Hmm?" he asked as he returned to the sack for another load.

"I had to look the character up for references," she explained. "When I got the pics for Nayru and fierce deity Link from Ely, I searched yours. I vaguely remember seeing them in the fighting game before, but I never really knew much beyond that. Blond, tall ninja. Elegant and mysterious."

Leoric paused mid-scoop, then gave a small laugh. "You think I'm elegant?"

She rolled her eyes, laughing softly. "I said mysterious too, didn't I?"

He chuckled and set down the last of the cotton. "It's funny though. I used to love the character more at first. At least until the big reveal."

"The big reveal?" she asked.

"You don't know?" He tilted his head. "Sheik was actually Zelda. A disguise she wore to avoid getting detected."

Vaelith blinked, pausing mid-spin. "Really?"

He nodded, his voice quieter. "Yeah… I loved Sheik from the moment they showed up in Ocarina. It was like—Sweet! Someone else opposes Ganondorf—you're not alone! Plus, ninja! They were sharp and fast and competent. Okay, fair, for the most part, all they do is teach you songs, but they helped Link. And then… it's like the game pulled the rug out from under me. Sheik was gone, and we were back with Zelda, who immediately needs to be rescued."

Vaelith tilted her head. "But Zelda was Sheik the whole time."

"Yeah. That's the part that messed me up. Because as a kid, I wanted to be someone like Sheik. But that's not who my parents wanted me to become. They wanted me to be more like Zelda. A princess. And since the day of her birth, people had the highest expectations for her. This wasn't even about gender—it was about freedom. "

Vaelith's hands paused over her work, listening intently.

"I still think Sheik was more than just a costume," Leoric added. "They moved differently. Spoke differently. It did not feel like someone just acting. This was a whole distinct identity Zelda slipped into. Something she could use to survive, but also just to escape."

Vaelith offered a slow, understanding nod. "So for you, Sheik wasn't Zelda pretending. Sheik was Zelda, but free, unfettered?"

"Exactly," he said. "And for me… Leoric's kind of like that. Not a mask. Not a trick. Just… me. Without the weight. Without any of my family's expectations."

Vaelith smiled softly. "Yeah. I can see that."

Vaelith returned to her spinning wheel—cotton fluff in motion.

Leoric changed, then set his own workstation. He filled a large vat with tannin; the liquid sloshing as he submerged some bristly boar hides.

Vaelith glanced at him, her eyes flashing briefly, before focussing intently on her work. "Oh, I found a lot of gear that should work really well for your costume, by the way."

Leoric looked up. "Really? Already?"

"Mhm. Cloth bandanas are common headgear for crafters and gatherers. But those items are not class-restricted, so you can wear them as a ranger. Doesn't give any useful combat-related attributes, but that's not important for a photoshoot."

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"What about the scarf?"

"Similar idea. There's a chest piece for gatherers that comes with a high scarf. Dyed white and blue, it actually works pretty well. Here, check the gear preview for the pieces I've picked for you," she said as she tapped something on an unseen interface. "I can make everything—it's weaver-crafted. The cloth arm warps, tights, even the tabi—err, the sandals. I could only preview it on myself, so I'd like to know if it still works with your proportions. Want to try it?"

A pop-up appeared in Leoric's interface, displaying the names of five gear pieces. He opened the menu and selected preview on character.

A shimmer washed over his avatar.

His crafting outfit—apron, work gloves, durable trousers, tough boots. face mask—suddenly vanished. In their place, a deep indigo wrap crossed his chest, snug but flexible, with a high collar that obscured his jawline. A layered scarf rested loosely atop it—white and cobalt, with faint silver embroidery tracing the edges. Cloth bindings stretched from wrist to elbow, matte and tight. Even his fingers were partially covered, and he felt lighter, more deft—as if the game wanted him to feel the change.

Looking down, he checked his tight trousers: sleek, dark, slightly baggy around the knees for freedom of movement, but tapering to the calves with ties cinched tight. Around his ankles, the preview gear displayed a set of tabi sandals, revealing just a hint of his avatar's tanned skin-tone beneath the wrappings.

Since he could not see his own face from this current perspective, Leoric then opened a small preview window. Multiple layers of fabric wrapped around the top of his head, hiding most of his brown hair and completing the look. What little of his hair remained visible, hanging out from under the bandana, ended mostly blonde thanks to his balayage.

He blinked, stunned.

That's… me?

It looked astounding. Vaelith claimed she did not know the character well, but she must have had a gift. Or maybe she simply had an eye for detail. For something thrown together in a few minutes, it was remarkably accurate.

Leoric swallowed, looking himself over again. He looked like the person he always imagined he could be when he played as a rogue, or when he doodled ninja OC designs in the corners of his school notebooks. This was no knight in shining armour. There was no cape, no emblem. No grandeur. It was simple, practical. It spoke to him, to something inside of him, rendering him speechless for a minute.

"I know the stats are all over the place," Vaelith said eventually, snapping him out of his trance. "But well… I hope it works."

Leoric smiled at her, but did not answer immediately. He turned his avatar slightly from side to side, watching the fabric shift with him. The scarf swayed just a little when he moved. Even the shadow it cast on his chest felt familiar, like something out of a dream he had forgotten until now.

"I always wanted to look like this," he admitted. His voice was softer, a little raw. "Not flashy. Not loud. Just… like someone who can choose to remain in the background as long as they want, or step into the light, whenever they want to. Someone who just oozes calm confidence."

"Ah… You like it, then?" Vaelith asked.

"I do." He pulled the gear-preview scarf down and gave a sheepish half-smile. "This reminds me of who I used to wish I could be. And I didn't expect it to hit this hard, but…" He trailed off, staring at his avatar.

It was like looking through a window at someone he had tried to become, over and over again, in games and dreams and secret sketches.

"Well, once I'm done turning this cotton into thread, spindles of yarn, and bolts of cloth, I can build you the entire set. The gloves and feet should actually work for you, I think? They're cloth armour, so not as much defence as what you'd get with your leather gear, but they've got both strength and dexterity. You could reuse them on other combat classes."

"Oh?" He opened the attribute panels for the armour set and looked at the attribute scores. Vaelith was right; those two pieces would be upgrades when he reached the required level. "They do have pretty high attributes, even better than the armour I made myself yesterday."

"Well, that makes sense; they're higher-level items," she said.

"Guess that means we'll have to grind before the screenshot moment?"

Vaelith looked up from her spinning wheel. "I think that was always the plan—Ely's been making gear that's above our levels for her part of the costumes, too."

Leoric dismissed the preview and returned his focus to the leather in the tanning vat. But before he started working again, he smiled bitterly and shot Vaelith a pained look. "I already miss it… The costume, I mean."

"You could always use the visual armour set feature and register it," she offered, then added with a grin, "Be a ninja archer? Wait, was that even a thing?"

"Yeah, they were. They used smaller bows, generally. Or shuriken and kunai." Leoric chuckled. "But, thanks for reminding me, I might just do that, once I hit the level so I can actually wear it."

"No problem!" Vaelith giggled, playful. "On, and are you going to learn to play the lyre? Or at least get one? I suppose that would be a woodworking recipe?"

He shook his head, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Ah! I don't even know if that's a thing? I guess it must be. Are there any kind of bard class in this game?"

Vaelith raised a brow and leaned back from the spinning wheel, flexing her wrist. "I don't know? I haven't done any research or reading on this game, really. Ely normally guides me towards things that I'll enjoy."

"Let's find out?" he said. A few finger swipes later, a translucent interface unfolded in front of him. He flicked through a few menus, searching for the class registry. "I already checked the level thirty classes, and I know it's not one of the options. The next tier unlocks at level fifty… Let's see. Oh hey, there's two that sound related to music—sword dancer and blade singer. They're both considered damage-dealers."

Vaelith tilted her head. "What does it say about them?"

"Hmm. The bladesingers use harmonics and special 'resonating' swords. They have a passive ability related to musical echoes—whatever that means—and they offer some defensive group-wide buffs. Sword dancers dual-wield curved blades. Their dances are offensive group-wide buffs, and they have a special mechanic about picking a dancer partner to sync up with."

"Sounds interesting, but nothing about actual instruments?"

"Hmm," Leoric furrowed his brow. "It does say something interesting in the notes about both of those classes, though."

Vaelith raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's up?"

"Here it says how the blade singer's echoes get multiplied by dancing steps, and how sword dancers are more powerful when synced to the rhythm of a song."

"Oh? That's interesting. Some kind of class synergy between the two, maybe?"

He made a noise in his throat. "Looks that way."

"Maybe you could check your woodworking recipe list for instruments? Flutes, lyres, that sort of thing." Vaelith's mouth suddenly hung open for a second. "Oh, and if you have time and materials, I could use a higher-tier spinning wheel? Mine level's fifteen and store-bought. I think the next one is twenty-two, and I'm going to hit that level soon."

"Sure. Let me look them up." Leoric closed the class registry and opened the recipe list. "I'm fairly confident I saw instruments in here somewhere…"

With the press of a button, his interface switched to display items crafted from his other profession. He scrolled down the list, skipping past bows, staves, accessories, tools, until he found what he had been looking for at the bottom of the list—the instrument category.

"Yep, here they are. Maple lyre's a fairly low-level recipe, it would be no problem making one for the costume, at least. Not sure about actually learning to play one. I have no idea whether the game has a music mode or not. But I suppose it must have one?"

"Could be a fun skill to pick up when you have some downtime, though." She shrugged, smiling. "I wonder how involved the music system is? Given the quality of the rest of the game, I imagine some players might dedicate themselves to the craft and do concerts in the middle of town and all."

Leoric wondered about this for an instant. He immediately remembered their first meeting, the tense scene of Kaelyn and Vaelith dancing in the bustling Luminara market to the enchanting melodies of a busker. "You know, before the news of last night, I would have imagined Kaelyn would have been all over that. Learning instruments, playing the sword dancer class, giving concerts…"

Vaelith's smile faded, and a look of concern slowly crept onto her face. "You think she wouldn't anymore?"

He lifted one hand and gently scratched an itch at the top of his head. "There was a certain… bitterness today in her responses, no? I'm sure she might not be in the mood for partying like that today. Maybe when everything turns around, though, she'll come around? Return to the sassy catgirl from day one?"

She exhaled. "I don't know how I can help her work through all of this, but I hope I can help her somehow."

Leoric grinned. "Would you pick blade singer to support her as a sword dancer?"

Vaelith's face turned beet red. "Me? A singer?! No… no way. I couldn't do that… Why don't you do it?"

Leoric wanted to brush her off and dismiss the idea, but then he remembered how he made this character. How he had based him on a popular K-pop singer. Jae-Min Lee. Even his character's voice was picked to match the singer's.

Being a singer, and standing in the spotlight? The idea did not disgust him, but it was so far removed from his current dreams. Of the assassin stalking the shadows, the Sheik, he yearned to be.

"That's… I mean, I could," he said carefully. "But this won't happen for a while. And if I do go that route, then you and Ely will have to fight over who's tanking and who's healing."

She shuddered. "Oh, no! I'm not… I'd be so worried about screwing up and letting everyone down. Healing's far too much stress and anxiety for me, and tanking scares me way too much. Taking hits in this game hurts, you know!"

He nodded, totally understanding why she wanted to avoid those two roles. He had done the same, after all. "That said, have you already figured out what you want to do once you hit level thirty? Do you plan on sticking with mage? You seem to be doing really well with it."

"I am enjoying this one, yes. I don't know if any of the other classes will appeal to me as much as it does. Do you have something in mind, in your case?"

Leoric nodded and stopped working. He leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully. "Yeah… I was actually looking at the assassin class. I really hope the party make-up will make it possible for me to go for that one."

"Oh?" Vaelith tilted her head. "I mean, that makes sense. It suits you, and it makes the cosplay choice even more obvious now. But why do you think it wouldn't work out? Do you think Ely would stop you from doing something for efficiency's sake?"

"I mean, I'm so used to having to sacrifice what I want for others. But…" He lowered his voice, a note of vulnerability creeping in. "No. From what I know of her, she'd basically tell me to stop worrying about it, to do what I want, and that she'll make it work."

Vaelith smiled. "Yep. You got it in one. That's exactly what she'll say. What can you tell me about how the class works?"

"Let's see. The guild is right here in Umbraholme. It's one of the level thirty unlocks. Not a huge leap from Ranger—stealth instead of camouflage, poisons and backstabs instead of traps. Melee instead of ranged is probably the biggest shift. But honestly? It just feels better. Less about prep, more about improvising."

"Sounds like it would suit you," she said gently.

"Thanks. I think so too." He smiled, though it was tempered. "It's silly, maybe. But there's something satisfying about building toward something that's been living in the back of your head since you were twelve."

Vaelith considered that, then smiled back. "It's not silly. If anything, that makes it more meaningful."

Leoric looked up at her, grateful. "You know," he said eventually, "I meant to ask. That last dungeon run? You really outdid yourself. You flattened some pack of mobs in two seconds flat. What the hell was that?"

Vaelith chuckled. "Ah, you noticed?"

"It was hard not to. One second I'm lining up a shot, the next, there's a crater and no enemies."

She leant back from her wheel, flexing her fingers. "So you know how most parties treat knock-back spells like they're a problem? They scatter mobs, mess up tank aggro..."

"Yeah. And Elyssia basically gave you carte blanche to use them anyway. But I figured you were holding back—I haven't seen much actual knock-back lately."

"Because I stopped using them like a scatter bomb," she said, eyes twinkling. "Turns out, if you knock an enemy into a wall, they don't fly anywhere. They just get double damage, no knock-back. The same happens if I bind them first, but bind is a tricky debuff."

"Because it goes away after a single hit."

"Yeah. Exactly. But walls do the same thing."

Leoric nodded twice, slowly. "Okay, that's good, but that dungeon was a natural cavern, and it wasn't exactly filled with walls, let alone perfect wall-placement for every pull."

Vaelith nodded. "Right—so I've noticed. But then I realised something." She glanced upward, then mimed a blink with her fingers. "If I teleport above them and blast down, the ground acts as a wall."

"Wait," he said, looking up from his workstation. "You turned your knock-back into a slam?"

"Exactly. Downward cone-blast, right over their heads. They can't go down any further than the floor, so the force gets absorbed. Multiplied. Physics trick."

"You do know you turned mage into a CQC class, right?"

She smirked. "Yeah. Elementalists are the stand-back-and-nuke type. Mages? Their kits make them brawlers in disguise. Our best skills are all in short range—cones, bursts, point-blank damage. We just needed someone dumb enough to get close. Or… if the mountain won't come to you… well, you can just Blink to the mountain!"

Leoric burst out laughing. "Throwing yourself into melee range. I respect that."

Vaelith wiped her hands, and using one finger, traced a small translucent sigil over the bench. "Want to see something even funnier?"

He nodded eagerly.

She finished the ritual and conjured a faint shimmering outline in the air—a force wall. It hovered for a second, nearly invisible.

"See this?" she asked, pointing. "It's a ritual usually used to block doors. Redirect mobs during events. But if I cast it mid-combat—"

"—You can make your own wall," Leoric finished, eyes widening.

"Yep. Place one behind the enemy, blast them into it. Boom. Instant wall slam. Nobody expects the combat ritualist."

"That's brilliant. Doesn't it take time to set up?"

"It depends on how fast you can draw the ritual circle? It's just a question of dexterity and memory." She beamed. "I got it down to a science."

Leoric stared at her, eyes wide with admiration. "You're not just clever. You're terrifying."

She offered a small smile. "I'm just a nerd with a grimoire."

They both returned to their workbenches, the air lighter.

"Thanks for sharing that," Leoric said quietly. "It's not just helpful—it's inspiring."

"You're welcome, Lee." Vaelith smiled. "And here is the first piece of your cosplay. One down, four to go."

She handed him the cotton bandana.

Leoric accepted it with trepidation. One fifth of the way to one of his lifelong dreams. A dream he had long forgotten about, but one his new friend was helping him shape into reality. This was not like childhood play or a borrowed mask. She was giving him her permission to be the person he had always wanted to become.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.