Ignis' First Firesday of Harvestfall, 1442, Eelreach Waters, Scalemarshes.

Leoric's ears twitched, a muscle memory born of countless battles and ambushes. The faint ripple in the murky water was almost imperceptible, but not to him. Not with the marsh so still. Not with his senses so sharp.

"They're here," he said, low enough so only his party would hear. His bowstring was taut under his fingers. No hesitation. No uncertainty. He glanced back at the others. Kaelyn's ears twitched nervously, her tail swishing low, her staff solidly held with both hands. Vaelith stood motionless, her wide-brimmed hat shading her amethyst eyes, arcs of power dancing between her fingertips.

Good—they're both ready.

Leoric inhaled deeply, the stench of stagnant water and rot filling his nose. Yesterday, this smell had been a distraction. Today, it was just part of the battlefield. Focus. Plan. Act. This was what he had told himself back then, and what he was telling himself now. This time, though, the stakes were higher. This time, he was not just following Elyssia's advice—he was the one calling the shots.

The stillness shattered. A sudden spray of water erupted from the pool ahead, droplets scattering through the humid air as three lizardmen burst forth, their scaled bodies glistening with swamp muck. They moved fast—too fast for comfort—their spears slicing through the haze like jagged teeth. The squelch of their webbed feet against the sodden ground sent a shiver down his spine.

His mind snapped into overdrive. He loosed the arrow without thinking, aiming for the lizardman at the centre of the group. It struck true, embedding itself in its shoulder. The creature staggered but did not stop. He was already nocking another arrow.

"Vaelith, Blast!" he said, his voice sharp. Leadership was not about suggestion in moments like this. It was about command.

The dracan's hand snapped up, and the wave of force rippled through the air. It slammed into the lizardmen with an audible crack, sending two of them stumbling backward into the water. Ripples expanded outward, and for a moment, all Leoric could hear was the eerie echo of guttural croaks in the distance. But there was no time to think about what else might be lurking.

The third lizardman, undeterred, charged straight for Kaelyn.

"Kaelyn, now!" Leoric's voice rang out again.

The felinae's hands were already moving. She raised her staff, a shimmering golden barrier materialising around her just as the creature lunged. Its spear clashed against the magic with a hiss, the force of the Sanctuary spell flinging it back several feet.

Kaelyn's tail puffed out in alarm, but her hands were steady. Her ears twitched as another guttural croak echoed nearby, but she did not retreat. Golden light shimmered around her as she maintained the spell, her grip tightening on her staff. She pressed her lips together, her brow furrowing in fierce concentration. As long as Kaelyn held her ground, harm would not come for any of them.

When the lizardman lunged again, testing the barrier, Kaelyn narrowed her eyes. "Not today," she said, her voice barely audible over the hiss of magic and steel.

Leoric loosed an arrow, aimed at the lizardman standing by Kaelyn's spell. Bull's eye. The arrow landed square in its chest. The creature hissed and fell to one knee, but did not go down completely. But not a second later, multiple coppery-red missiles finished it.

"They don't die easy," Leoric said under his breath. His ears twitched again. More movement—this time from the reeds behind them.

"Six o'clock! Vaelith, watch the rear!" he shouted, shooting arrows at one of the wounded lizardmen still charging towards them.

Behind him, three more lizardmen emerged from the water, their spears gleaming in the dim light.

Vaelith did not hesitate. She formed a magical spear of her own and hurled it with more speed and power than her body should be capable of. Her hand glowed with raw energy as the spear flew straight through the enemies. Two of the lizardmen froze mid-step, bound by the shimmering telekinetic force. The third had darted sideways, avoiding her spell entirely, and closed the gap with alarming speed.

"Leoric!" she called, her voice clipped but calm.

He spun around. His special arrow flew, striking the advancing lizardman's shadow. It stumbled and fell face first in the muck, bound in place by Leoric's skill. Before any of the lizardmen could free themselves, Vaelith blinked to a tactical position, one where she had an angle to hit all targets with her strongest spell. Leoric had seen it in action before. The combination of a full charged up Blast—courtesy of her Blinking Build-up passive—against bound enemies was truly devastating. Her spell pulverised all three lizardmen on the spot, a sonic boom and sudden rush of wind sending Leoric's cloak floating behind him. What little remained of the creatures slumped into the muck. Bubbling noises echoed as the chunks of lizardmen meat and the remains of their weapons slowly sank out into the depths.

Leoric's heart pounded as he lowered his bow for a split second, his sharp eyes darting across the battlefield. None of this had gone as planned. He had not laid traps or scouted ahead, and there had been no time to assess enemy patterns or calculate every move. Yet here they were, standing their ground.

It was not perfect. It was not clean. But it was working.

Vaelith was moving on instinct, her teleportation, and charged spells hitting with devastating accuracy. Kaelyn's barriers and shields had held under pressure, her magic pulsing out at just the right moments to keep them alive. And him? His arrows had not missed. Not once.

This was not what he was used to. There was no time for deliberation, no neatly crafted strategy. But, in a way, the unpredictability felt... right.

Yesterday's conversation with Elyssia lingered at the edges of his mind, her words sharper than any lizardman's spear.

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"You spend too much time preparing, and you'll miss your shot."

She had been right. In the past, he had always relied on planning, on anticipating every variable. But not today. He was figuring out the best move as he went.

A sudden movement caught his eye—a ripple in the pool to his left. He turned just in time to see another lizardman rising from the water, its spear arcing toward Vaelith's unprotected side.

"Vaelith, down!" he shouted, even as his fingers loosed another arrow. It struck the creature's arm, throwing off its aim. The spear grazed Vaelith's shoulder, but she barely flinched, her focus unbroken as she retaliated with a series of telekinetic blows to the lizardman's face. The creature collapsed at her feet, and Leoric observed the visible signs of Vaelith's charged-up status, ready to be unleashed once more.

"Thanks," she said, her voice steady but tinged with gratitude.

"Anytime," Leoric replied, already scanning for the next threat. His mind raced, cataloging their positions, their remaining resources. The fight was far from over.

Kaelyn's voice broke through the chaos. "Leoric, two more, coming in fast!"

He turned to see the felinae holding her ground, her staff glowing as she used her regeneration spell on the wounded dracan. The Sanctuary spell was down, and two lizardmen were closing in on her, their movements quick and coordinated. Leoric cursed under his breath.

"Kaelyn, brace yourself!" he said, nocking multiple arrows on his bowstring. He drew the string back as far as it would go, his muscles straining, and released. The arrows flew true, striking both lizardmen multiple time each on their flanks. Not enough to kill them, but it slowed them down.

Kaelyn seized the moment, using Holy Shield on herself, the golden light covering her. The lizardmen's attacks landed ineffectually against the barrier, hissing in frustration. But the shield would only last for a few attacks. Leoric took aim and used Vital Shot, taking one of the lizardmen down with an arrow to the head when it took a step back and opened its mouth to roar in anger. The body of the lizardman fell into the muck with a dull splash.

Thanks for making it an easier target, bud.

Moments later, a fully charged red spear suddenly pierced his companion's flank, pinning it in place.

"Move out of its melee range!"

As Kaelyn stepped away from the creature, towards Leoric, he nocked another arrow and took aim. The bound creature had no means of escaping its fate, and after the arrow pierced through its skull, it fell limply on top of its companion's sinking body.

The marsh fell silent again, the only sounds the heavy breathing of the party and the distant croaks of unseen creatures. Leoric lowered his bow, his shoulders relaxing slightly. They had done it.

"Everyone okay?" he asked, his voice steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

"Peachy enough," Kaelyn muttered, tail still puffed as she scanned the marsh. She gave him a weak smile. "Nice shooting, by the way."

Vaelith adjusted her hat. "We're clear. For now."

Kaelyn glanced at Leoric. "You're not half bad at this thing, you know," she said with a crooked grin, though her voice betrayed a hint of lingering nervousness.

Vaelith's amethyst eyes glinting faintly in the dim swamp light. "Better than 'not bad.' Thanks for the call outs, Leoric. It helped."

He felt the corner of his mouth twitch into a faint smile. Coming from Vaelith, this was high praise. "We're not out of the woods yet," he said, gesturing to the murky pools surrounding them. "Stay sharp."

Vaelith tilted her head, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary before she nodded and turned away. There was something unspoken in her expression—respect, maybe. Leoric was not sure he deserved it, but he would do his best not to let her down.

His mind was already shifting back to planning their next move. But Elyssia's voice echoed in his thoughts again, unbidden.

"You can't control every situation, but you can always control your reaction to it."

Maybe she had been right. Leoric always tried to keep everything under control. But today, working with his party? It was not just about laying out the perfect strategy or expecting every variable. It was about trust. Trusting his instincts, yes, but more importantly, trusting his team. Vaelith's sharp precision, Kaelyn's unyielding resolve—they did not need micromanagement. They needed space to act, to grow into their strengths. Elyssia saw that before I did, he realized, her voice echoing in his mind. You've got the skills. You just need to let go of all that planning.

Yesterday, he might have tried to dictate every step, but now? Now he saw what Elyssia had been trying to teach him. It was not about controlling the chaos; it was about riding it.

Leoric glanced at Kaelyn and Vaelith, both of them steadying themselves after the fight. They had followed his lead, trusted his calls. Not a plan. Not a strategy. Just trust—and he had somehow earned theirs.

"Let's move," he said, his voice firm but calm. "Stay sharp. This swamp isn't done with us yet."

As they pressed deeper into the Scalemarshes, Leoric felt a quiet sense of resolve settle over him. Maybe Elyssia had been onto something after all.

He still thought of her as an excellent teacher. He wondered why she insisted she was not. Here he was, putting into practice the lessons she had given him, and paying it forward, teaching the same lessons to others.

Even their current mid-term goal to pick up crafting professions was something he did because of her. If Elyssia thought it was worth the time investment to learn how to make and repair your own equipment, he was sure there was a good reason behind it.

They had distributed the remaining ones. He was mostly satisfied with the split.

But cooking and weaving, Vaelith?

Leoric grimaced. Sophie would have punched someone in the face if they had told her to pick up those professions. She had heard the line "Go make me a sandwich" so often as she grew up.

As they trudged through the muck, Leoric sneaked a glance at the little dracan walking by his side. She walked with quiet poise, her hat pulled low and her hands brushing against her amethyst necklace. She was confident in her abilities, no doubt about that. But the longer Leoric thought about it, the more he wondered if she limited who she could be to what others allowed her to be? Vaelith's calm certainty in choosing those professions had struck him—not because they did not suit her, but because they seemed to suit her too well. There was no hesitation in her decision, no sign of doubt. It was as though the choice had been second nature, like she had known all along what would fit her.

And yet, the whole thing did not sit quite right with him. Not because of the professions she had chosen—those roles were as valid as any other—but because he was afraid something compelled her to make her choice. How she followed the way she should play. Leoric hated that. He hated how people like Daniel always acted like they knew best, as though there were a single right way to handle anything. He saw the way Vaelith followed Elyssia's advice without question, and it left an uncomfortable knot in his chest. Would she always let others dictate her class, her build and every choice in the game?

Leoric cast another sidelong glance at Vaelith, her hand still fidgeting with her amethyst necklace. Was this really what Vaelith wanted, or had she just internalised what the world expected of her? It was not a question he could answer or even one he had any right to ask. But the doubt lingered, as stubborn as the damp air clinging to their skin.

Sophie had been told more than once in her own life what roles women should play, how they should behave, how they should act in their careers or relationships. She had fought against that every step of the way. The thought of anyone dictating Vaelith's choices the same way left a sour taste in Leoric's mouth.

This was not about professions. It was about permission—about whether Vaelith believed she even had a choice.

I promise; I'll make sure you get to walk a path of your own choosing. I won't let Sophie's mistakes happen again here.

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