Ignis' First Firesday of Harvestfall, 1442, Tidebreaker Watch, Silvergale Strand.

Leoric's gaze was locked with Vaelith's, but he stood there awkwardly. He had come here to talk, but he did not really know what to say now that he found her. Perhaps she would have some answers to the questions plaguing him? But he had caught her in the middle of something. Would she drop everything she was doing just to have a chat with him because he asked politely? He ran a hand across his chin, assessing the young dracan mage. Her golden scales shimmered in the sunlight.

She still floated in mid-air, a heavy, leather-bound tome floating in front of her, and a quill levitated close to her right shoulder. Her eyes darted nervously to her party members. Leoric caught the subtle nods they gave her and noticed how her shoulders relaxed, the tension draining away like water. A smile formed hesitantly on Vaelith's lips as she returned his gaze. She pointed at her grimoire. "I'm nearly done with this ritual. We can talk afterward?"

Leoric chuckled as he nodded. He almost felt as if she was asking for his permission; the irony was thick, a bitter taste in his mouth, considering how had he braced himself for her dismissal. "Of course, take your time. I'll be over there." With a quick gesture, he indicated a guard post not too far behind him. She took a second to acknowledge the destination, then nodded. Her gaze soon focused back on the book in front of her. With a simple gesture of her right hand, the quill magically dipped itself in a small ink bottle, then returned to scribble inside the book.

The burrovian ranger spun around, his cloak swirling, and started walking away. One of the dracan's party members, the silver-haired Wind sylvani, sprinted to catch up. Once she reached his side, she slowed to match his pace and walked alongside him. After a few awkward seconds of silence, Leoric confronted her. "Anything I can do for you, miss?"

She smiled politely at him, her ocean blue eyes glowing. "Just Ryssa. It's nice to meet you." They walked in silence for a few more steps until she spoke up again. "Leoric, was it?"

He nodded as they kept walking. "Leoric Stargazer. Like Vaelith said, we're part of the same registered party."

Leoric wondered what the priestess wanted with him. "You're Golden Dawn, right? I think just about anyone who's serious about this game knows you by now."

Oh yeah, Kaelyn's video that went viral.

Leoric groaned; the news had almost slipped his mind already. He stopped and rubbed his forehead. "For the record, that was all Kaelyn's doing."

She giggled, a melodic, almost ethereal laugh, that suited her faery-like appearance perfectly. "Trouble herding your cats?"

He frowned at the use of plural. They had enough trouble with just one felinae in their group. "I beg your pardon?"

Ryssa studied Leoric's face for a few moments, taken aback by the unexpected reaction. It looked like she expected him to laugh, as if they were sharing an inside joke. She composed herself. "Oh, I mean… You're the party leader, right?"

Is that the impression people have of me, because of that video?

He shook his head. "No, sorry. I'm just the brooding, lone wolf ranger."

Ryssa's cheeks reddened. She turned her head sideways, trying to hide her embarrassment. "Oh, from your appearances, I just assumed you were the most experienced player. You know, with everyone else still in their starter gear and all…"

He burst out laughing despite himself, which appeared to calm the sylvani a little. Leoric had the presence needed to command attention; Sophie had made sure of that. He knew he should not be surprised to see people assuming the tall, confident guy in a party with three women would be the group leader. "No, no… Kaelyn paid for the registration, but Elyssia's our top player. If anyone's the leader, it would be her, our sylvani tank. She's the one who invited me to join her party with Vaelith."

Ryssa's eyes widened in surprise.

What's with that reaction? Is there something about her appearance hinting at incompetence?

Leoric wondered if there were some kind of advantage or drawback to each species which made sylvani less suited to leadership roles? He had seen her class at work—and she was a veritable monster—so he doubted it was because of her class. Leoric had to admit he really had not paid any attention to which classes were popular or not according to the forums, but he knew how crowd mentality in this kind of game could be pretty suffocating.

From the subtle shift in Leoric's facial expression, Ryssa apparently understood the weight of his unspoken questions, and her own face grew solemn. "Elyssia's the green-haired one, right? The wind Sylvani martial artist, still wearing her starter gear?"

He shook his head as he realised what her earlier reaction was about. No matter if she had an unconventional class or species, she still appeared like a newbie; it only made sense she would get overlooked. Leoric, however, knew the truth. He knew how, for all his advantage in levels and gear over her, she had routinely out-damaged him. More than once, she had fought off groups of enemies way over her own level, taking almost no damage. And had done all of it with a smile on her face.

He let out a sigh, then explained. "She may not look it, but she plays like a pro."

Ryssa nodded slowly, a skeptical frown etching itself onto her face, the silence heavy with doubt. She shook her head after a moment, her expression turning serious. "Let's drop it. This isn't the topic I came here to discuss… I actually came here to ask you: how much do you know about Vaelith?"

Leoric tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, his ears twitching. Was that why she had sought him out? To learn more about their mage? Ryssa had heard of his party. For a moment, he wondered if she could be a reporter, or someone trying to find out more information about them? He had to be careful to avoid getting doxxed. "Not much, actually. Elyssia and her have known each other for a long time. Why the question?"

Ryssa's eyes scanned him from head to toe, a critical assessment in their gaze, as she spoke. "She's one of a kind, is all. I've been trying to figure her out all day. I admit, I was also curious if the rest of her group were just as special."

Leoric turned to face her. The hairs at the base of his neck were tingling. He crossed his arms defensively. "Even if I knew anything, which I don't, I'm sure it wouldn't be my place to tell."

She raised one hand, palm open, meaning no harm. "No, no, I don't intend to pry. I suppose I only wanted to offer advice, from one party leader to another… Well, you're not the party leader, but anyway. She's obviously still figuring things out. Like she's trying to find herself."

So am I...

He let out a sigh. "Aren't we all? The game only came out yesterday."

Ryssa looked behind at her friends, still chatting with Vaelith. The dracan stood up, having apparently finished with her ritual already. "It's true that she's quite green. We've been showing her the ropes all day, and she's a quick learner. But no. What I'm saying is… She's very hard on herself. Please—you need to handle her with care, okay?" She gently placed one hand on Leoric's forearm.

The closeness of the gesture surprised him. Was she this friendly with every stranger she met, or was there something about him that made her feel this safe? Had she somehow felt that Sophie was behind this character, and deemed him safe?

Ryssa continued. "I hope you'll be there for her when she needs it. And if not, just let her know she can always reach out to me and my guild, will you?" Without waiting for his answer, she sprinted back to her party, exchanging waves with Vaelith as they passed each other.

Leoric watched her leave, her faery-like figure soon joining her group, tucked in a corner at the back of the outpost. He exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the cliff-side beyond the camp, where the sea stretched out into the sky. A faint, salty breeze swept past, tugging at his hair and grounding him in this surreal but vivid world.

"One of a kind," he murmured, Ryssa's words echoing in his mind. He wondered why, but the phrase made something stir in him—a strange, protective feeling, perhaps. Or maybe it was just recognition, an awareness that he and Vaelith were kindred in some quiet, unspoken way.

Before he could dwell on it further, his ears twitched at the sound of her approaching footsteps. He turned, and there was Vaelith, her silvery hair catching the wind, her golden scales glinting in the sun and her grimoire safely stowed at her side. A new addition from yesterday was her witch hat, dyed in a blue matching her navy cloak. He could only see her face beneath the hat when she craned her neck to look up at him.

"Ready to chat?" she asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

He smiled gently, gesturing to a spot a little further from the camp, where they could sit undisturbed. "Come on. I saw a good spot while I was looking for you around here."

They walked in companionable silence. The waves below crashed rhythmically against the jagged rocks, each impact sending up a fine spray that glittered momentarily in the sunlight. The air smelled of salt and damp stone, grounding Leoric in a world that felt as vast and real as the one he had left behind. He could feel the faint tremors of each wave breaking on the shore reverberate up through the rock beneath him, as if the sea itself were a heartbeat—a steady, endless pulse that called to something primal and hidden inside him.

A low, distant roar followed each wave as it receded, only to surge forward again in a timeless cycle, reminding him of a breath, in and out, calming and constant. The ocean breeze carried hints of kelp and something metallic, mingling with the earthy scent of moss clinging stubbornly to the rocks. Occasionally, a gust would pick up, brushing the salt-scented air against his face, leaving a faint coolness on his skin.

Leoric stopped, having reached a rocky outcrop overlooking the waves. He found an area where the rocky ground looked less rugged and sat himself down.

Vaelith eyed the floor disapprovingly. As she reached down and murmured her spell, a coppery mist spiralled from her fingers, shimmering like stars in the night sky.

As Vaelith's fingers moved, releasing her magic, Leoric found himself mesmerised by her precision—the quiet grace in the way her spell unfolded, like a delicate dance performed just for herself. It looked almost sacred, a small display of control in a world that was so often chaotic.

The mist coalesced, slowly weaving itself into the shape of a translucent air mattress that seemed to float just above the rocks, anchored by some unseen force. The colour seemed to surprise her as much as it surprised Leoric—a warm, burnished copper that caught the rays of sunlight and glowed faintly, like embers in a dying fire. Vaelith's expression softened as she touched it, her eyes widening in a flicker of delight. She sat herself down next to him, floating inches off the ground.

Leoric noticed how the light reflected off her golden scales, each one catching a different hue of the sunlight. Her silvery hair drifted in the breeze, tendrils escaping from beneath her witch's hat, which she cradled in her hands as if it held something precious. Her dracan tail, the colour of molten gold, swayed gently behind her, matching the rhythm of the waves below.

"What did Ryssa want with you?" she asked, her voice softer now.

Leoric chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. "Nothing much. She's just looking out for you. Wanted you to know you can always reach out to her if you needed help."

Vaelith's cheeks turned red and her gaze went back to her hat. Leoric noticed with amusement how even her golden dracan scales shifted colour when she blushed.

With a barely perceptible shudder, her grasp tightened on the worn brim of her hat; her small, fond voice trembled slightly as she spoke. "Ryssa, Zyra and Orion have been very nice to me all day. Too nice, really."

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Leoric looked at her as she nervously kept her gaze averted from his own. "Why does it sound like you think you don't deserve good things?"

Vaelith's gaze remained on the brim of her hat as she shifted it restlessly in her hands. Her blush deepened, and Leoric watched her scales catch the evening light in shades of copper and rose. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet filled only by the sound of waves crashing below and the occasional caw of a distant seabird.

Finally, she murmured, "I guess… it just feels like everyone here is so confident. So sure of themselves." She looked out over the water, her expression thoughtful. "Zyra, Orion, Ryssa… even you. Everyone has a role, and they play it so well. They know who they are."

Leoric snorted softly. "Trust me, I'm just as lost as you are."

She glanced at him, a skeptical smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. "You? Come on. You're the tall, cool ranger. The guy who walks around looking like he knows everything that's going on." Her voice softened, almost wistful. "You look like you belong here."

Leoric looked down, idly picking at a piece of moss growing between the stones. He felt a strange pang at her words—almost a guilt that he could project an image of confidence when inside; he felt anything but. "Maybe it looks that way," he said, "but… sometimes, that's just armour. A front." He met her gaze, his voice growing quieter. "At first, when I made Leoric, I felt empowered. Invincible, that's true. But now I'm not so sure anymore."

Vaelith studied him for a moment, her eyes thoughtful. "What happened?"

He shook his head slowly. "I met an old friend. We went through a lot together. We had a bit of an argument." He trailed off, struggling to find the words. "They feel like I betrayed them. Pointed out how I'm taking the easy way out. And it made me think she may be right. I feel like I let her down. Her, and so many others, actually."

Vaelith nodded in understanding. "Did you really betray her? Or them, whoever they are?"

"I don't know? I did something that felt right at that moment. But I didn't think about the consequences. And after she pointed it out, it felt like I let her down."

She reached out and put one small hand over his knee. "Betrayal requires intent. It is a breach of trust, loyalty, or shared values. Betrayal is not about the impact of an action, but about the awareness and purpose behind it. If you did not mean to betray someone or a cause, then by definition, it is not betrayal."

Leoric looked at Vaelith in surprise. The words had flowed out of her mouth with conviction and wisdom, belying her young appearance. "But I put myself first, ahead of the cause."

She shook her head, her amethyst eyes still locked on his, her voice firm and unwavering, leaving no room for debate. "You always put your own mask on first."

He looked down at her hand resting on his knee, startled—not because of the gesture, but because of how grounding it felt. So simple. So steady. Her words lingered in his mind.

Put your own mask on first.

It was a simple concept, one that made sense. And yet… he could sense some undercurrent of hesitation in the way she said the words, a subtle undertone suggesting she might not be allowing herself the same grace she extended to him.

"Do you really believe that?" he asked softly, meeting her gaze. "That it's okay to put yourself first?"

She hesitated, pulling her hand back and folding it in her lap. She looked away; her gaze drifting to the waves crashing below as she watched them in silence.

The ocean seemed to stretch endlessly, so vast and unknowable, like the questions weighing on Leoric's mind. He felt strangely comforted by the limitless horizon; there was something liberating in knowing some things were beyond his control. Here, beneath the open sky, with the endless horizon before him, he could let go of needing all the answers, if only for a moment.

Finally, she responded, less adamant than before, as if she was trying to convince herself, rather than him. "I know it is. But it's easier to say it to someone else. It's harder to apply it to yourself."

Leoric understood exactly what she meant. "It's always like that, isn't it?" he said, his voice thoughtful. "People have all those expectations for us. Who we're supposed to be, what we're supposed to do. How are we supposed to reconcile doing that, while putting yourself first? Isn't it selfish to do so?"

Vaelith gave a small, rueful smile, still staring at the sea. "We're no use to anyone dead. You can do a lot more good if you're still alive."

He nodded, a faint, contemplative smile forming on his lips. "So, it's not about just choosing yourself over others. It's… what, making sure you're around to help them longer?"

Vaelith's gaze softened, though she kept her eyes fixed on the waves. "Maybe it's only a part of it. But it's also about not losing yourself entirely, you know? If you give and give, without taking time to breathe, you end up hollow. Empty."

He watched her carefully, sensing the weight behind her words. It felt like she was speaking from experience. How she herself had been hollow, and kept giving, never taking back. "Like pouring from an empty cup?"

"Exactly." She turned to look at him then, her eyes holding a mix of resolve and exhaustion. "You can't keep pouring until there's nothing left. And you can't be afraid to refill just because someone else might have to wait."

The truth hung heavy in the air, a comfortable yet electric silence punctuated only by the rhythmic whisper of the tides.

He broke the silence first, his voice quieter. "So, it's not selfishness. It's… survival."

Vaelith nodded, her expression finally easing, as though she'd been waiting to hear those words spoken aloud. "It's more than that. It's living, in a way that's real. For us, too."

He let her words sink in for a moment. But then, he remembered something else. "Speaking of living… You logged in earlier than expected. Yesterday you said you had to work today?"

She bit her lip and brought her knees closer to her chest. "I… took the day off. I wasn't really feeling myself today."

Leoric looked at the petite dracan trembling right by his side. Sophie's reflexes told him to give her a hug, or at least a comforting touch, but he held back. "Are you okay now?"

She smiled weakly. "I'm fine in here. But I don't… I don't want to log out. Not yet."

He reached out and took one of her small hands into his own. Her voice had been barely a whisper, fragile against the ocean's roar. He noticed the faint tremor in her icy hand, her fingers slowly steadying under his care. He felt a fierce protectiveness rise in him, an instinct to shield her from the weight of whatever shadows followed her from the real world. "You don't have to log out, then. Just stay here as long as you want."

Vaelith's fingers curled around his, her grip delicate but steady, as if anchoring herself to his presence. She took a shaky breath, her gaze dropping to their intertwined hands. "Thank you," she said in a whisper. "I… I don't think anyone's ever said this to me before. How it's okay to just… stay."

Leoric squeezed her hand gently. "You don't have to justify it, you know. If being here helps, then stay here. No one's judging you."

As they sat together, hand in hand, the waves filled the silence between them, each crash and sigh echoing the unspoken weight of their thoughts. The ocean had a way of softening the edges of things, its steady rhythm lulling them into a kind of quiet, vulnerable honesty. It felt like the sea was bearing witness to their struggles, a vast, ageless presence that absorbed and softened all pain. The cries of distant seabirds drifted over the water, sharp and clear in the stillness, as if calling them back to the present, grounding them in this shared moment.

Leoric listened to the waves, letting their rhythm slow his thoughts, grounding him. It was as if the sea were breathing for both of them, filling the space with something too large and old for words. The salty tang in the air seemed to sharpen his senses, while the cool breeze brushed against his skin like a gentle reminder: this world, though virtual, was as real to him as anything.

Leoric was the first to break the silence. "You know, when I created Leoric, I built somebody that embodies everything I wish I could be. I'm nothing like him in the real world."

Vaelith looked at him with a kind smile. "I don't believe you. Are you saying the player behind Leoric is secretly a jerk?"

Leoric burst out laughing. "I hope I'm not!"

She giggled and nodded. "See? There's probably a lot of the real you in Leoric. You said he embodies everything you wish you could be. Those are parts of you hiding beneath the surface, just waiting for a chance to come out."

He took a few seconds to absorb everything she had just said. "Is it the same for you? Did you build Vaelith the same way?"

Leoric felt her little hand tense up as he said the words.

Vaelith's eyes were distant and unseeing, as if trying to lose herself in the waves, her gaze fixed on the endless stretch of water before them.

The waves churned with a quiet ferocity, dark and restless against the shore, mirroring the turmoil in her heart. She wrapped her free arm around her knees, drawing herself inward as a powerful wave sent a spray of cold mist up toward the rocks. It left tiny droplets clinging to her scales and hair, making her appear like something forged from salt and starlight—a creature at once fragile and resilient.

She murmured her response, "I didn't… It's complicated." The rising swell of the waves almost drowned her words. "I was rushed and did not spend a long time creating her.…" The waves appeared to catch her words, carrying them away across the vastness of the sea, a small offering to the endless expanse.

Leoric turned towards her, noticing how the fins on the side of her head reacted to the rhythmic sound of the sea. "I asked myself, earlier, if I would change anything, if I had a do-over. I came to a conclusion: I wouldn't. What about you? Would you?"

She seemed to think about it—thinking seriously—but she shook her head. "I don't think so. It was weird, at first. But I feel right. In this body, in this world. Going back to my real body now feels like… punishment. Is it the same for you?"

He thought about it. Memories of how Sophie's body did not feel as agile and strong as she had wanted or expected it to be. But punishment? No, nothing that strong. It just felt like disappointment? "No, not quite. I missed Leoric's athleticism, but I wouldn't go that far."

Vaelith let out a short sigh. Her voice raw as she spoke. "I… was very sick earlier. I shouldn't have taken the wheel, not in that condition. When they sent me home, it was almost a relief. But as soon as I got home, I dived right back in. At least here, I don't have to be afraid of throwing up every waking moment. I'm in control again."

They sat in silence for a few moments, the weight of her words settling around them like a tangible presence. Leoric felt a pang of sympathy, a raw ache in his chest as he imagined her real-world struggles—the constant sickness, the lack of control over her own body. It was no wonder she'd found refuge here, in a place where she could feel strong and steady, where she could let go of her fears.

"Do you… feel safe here?" he asked gently, squeezing her hand just enough to let her know he was there, truly listening.

Vaelith nodded slowly, her gaze drifting out to the horizon where the sky met the sea. "Yes, for the first time in… in forever, really. I feel safe, and free, and… like myself. And that's strange, isn't it?" She let out a soft, almost bitter laugh. "To feel more like myself in a virtual body than in my own."

Leoric's chest tightened as he listened. He understood that feeling more than he cared to admit—the strange, exhilarating freedom of a world where he could be everything he was not outside of it. He met her gaze and, deep inside those amethyst eyes, he thought he saw the reflection of his own fears.

He shook his head, his tone gentle but firm. "I don't think it's strange at all. Here… you can be whoever you want." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "In here, you get to be the real you."

She looked at him, her expression softening. "The real me?" she murmured, as if trying the word on for size. "But is that who this is? Am I actually Vaelith?" A tremor ran through her body as her shoulders slumped, curling into a ball, her breaths shallow and ragged.

Leoric smiled, trying to reassure her. "Maybe? Do you want it to be? Vaelith isn't a fixed idea, after all. You're a mage today, but who knows what you'll be tomorrow?"

Vaelith's hand tightened in his, and for the first time, he noticed a hint of wetness in her eyes. She blinked quickly, trying to hide it, but he caught the shimmer before she looked away. "It's hard, though," she whispered. "Knowing how, when I log out, I'll have to go back to… to that body. To that life."

He felt his own chest tighten at her words, the ache of empathy deepening. He knew what she meant—he had felt the same sense of disconnect, the same frustration when he returned to a world where his limitations felt more tangible, more restrictive. But for her, it went so much deeper, and he could feel the pain behind her words.

"You know," he said softly, "maybe it's not about leaving it all behind. Maybe you can bring some pieces back with you."

She looked at him, confusion flickering in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

He took a breath, struggling to put his thoughts into words. "I think… being here lets us see things in ourselves we didn't know we had. Courage, strength, resilience… whatever it is. Those things are real. They're not just part of our avatars. And maybe, when we go back… we take a bit of that strength with us. Even if it's just a small piece. Even if it's just enough to get us through another day."

Vaelith was silent, her gaze thoughtful as she considered his words. Then she gave a slow nod, her eyes still distant, but her expression softening. "I like that," she breathed. "How I don't have to leave this all behind. Maybe I can carry some of this… this feeling, this strength, back with me."

Leoric smiled, his hand still wrapped around hers. "And if you ever need a reminder, you know where to find me. Just log in, and I'll be here. We'll all be here—Elyssia, Ryssa, me…"

She looked at him then, really looked at him, her expression filled with gratitude and something deeper, something impossible to describe. "Thank you, Leoric," she whispered. "For… for being here. For listening."

He felt a warmth spread through him at her words, a quiet joy that he'd been able to give her even a small sense of comfort. "Hey, just returning the favour. You listened to me earlier, remember? We help each other out. It's what party members do, isn't it?"

She nodded, a small, genuine smile breaking through her earlier sadness. "Yeah. Anytime, I've got your back."

They sat in silence, watching the tide breaking against the rocky beach in the distance. The crashing waves filled the void left by unspoken words. The light of the sun reflected on Vaelith's golden scales, and Leoric found himself quietly delighted by the beauty of the moment, by the feeling of connection hanging gently between them.

The water's surface shimmered like a mirror, reflecting not just the light, but something deeper—the quiet strength they'd both uncovered within themselves. It was as if the ocean absorbed their burdens and cast them back as something beautiful, something he hadn't thought possible. In that reflected light, he saw parts of himself he hadn't been willing to face before: the doubts, the fears, and the fragile hope taking root in their place. It was as though, in the quiet companionship they shared, his reflection had changed—becoming something he could finally accept.

For the first time in a long while, he felt… grounded. Anchored. Knowing the two of them had shared their struggles and how they had grown stronger from the experience.

After a long silence, Vaelith spoke again, her voice soft. "Thank you, Leoric. I don't know what the future holds. But… for now, I think I'm okay."

For a moment, it was as if the entire ocean answered her need for comfort, casting a gentle glow back toward her. Leoric held her hand a little tighter, feeling a deep, quiet certainty settle within him. Not all of their questions had been answered, but for now, he was satisfied with this.

Vaelith's shoulders relaxed, a weight visibly lifting as she looked out over the waves, her golden scales shining as they caught the rays of light.

He looked at her, a gentle smile on his face. "Then that's enough. For now, that's more than enough."

As he spoke, a quiet conviction settled over him, deeper and more solid than he had felt in a long time. He truly believed those words—not just for her, but for himself, too.

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