Umber’s First Darksday of Harvestfall, 1442, Stillbog, Scalemarshes.
Stonereach ending and turning into wetlands surprised Elyssia. A surprise, yes, but she would not have called it a pleasant one. The thick, muggy air hit her first—warm and humid, clinging to her skin like a damp cloak. The soft squelch of the mud under her boots with every step only added to the discomfort. Her keen eyes scanned the horizon, the familiar contours of tall grass and murky pools stretching into the distance.
She and Leoric been walking for what felt like hours, and she had known the moment they entered this zone that it was not what she had hoped. The beasts here were sluggish, low-level creatures compared to what they had been fighting earlier. Even the wind seemed lazy, swirling lazily through the thick reeds and over the shallow pools. She frowned.
This was supposed to be a fun adventure!
And yet, it was... this underwhelming, sticky mess.
“Wetlands. Fantastic,” she muttered under her breath, kicking at the mud. Her hands fidgeted, aching for the thrill of something more—a real challenge. Something to get her blood pumping.
But the gods—no, the game—had other plans.
Beside her, Leoric moved with his usual methodical precision. Every step was deliberate, his bow always at the ready, eyes darting to every sound, every movement. She had to admire his focus. It was so different from how she approached things. He prepared, analysed—almost like he was still back in Stonereach, on the lookout for challenging enemies and already planning how to ambush them perfectly. He was always so cautious, and thinking ahead. She smiled despite herself, but could not help but roll her eyes.
“You will not need all those traps here, y’know,” she said, her voice cutting through the wet air. “The lizardmen prowling this place don’t need a strategy—they need a slap to the head.”
Leoric shot her a glance, half a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Planning never hurts,” he said, but there was something softer in his tone. It was not defensive, just... habitual. Like this was what he knew, and he stuck to it.
“Don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.” Elyssia sighed and continued, “You’re too much in your head, bunny boy. You’ve gotta feel the fight, you know? React. You spend too much time preparing, and you’ll miss your shot.”
Don’t think, feel. That’s a Bruce Lee saying, isn’t it? If she was honest, Elyssia would actually say it’s a Jahn Lee thing, since she heard of that line from a fighting game, not from the actor and famous martial artist himself.
Leoric frowned slightly, but did not argue. His silence, she knew, meant he was thinking. He always did that—analyze everything. She had to admit, there was something admirable about it. But it was not her way. Never had been.
The damp air clung to her, heavy and oppressive. The swamp sprawled endlessly ahead, its surface broken by scummy pools and thick curtains of hanging vines. Soft ripples echoed in the distance, hinting at unseen movement, while the nasal hisses of concealed lizardmen occasionally pierced the stillness, just beyond sight.
But she did not really worry about monsters lurking about. She had other things on her mind. It was the heavy feeling in her chest. The gnawing itch she had been trying to ignore.
This body feels right. This is who I should have been. Or who I truly am.
The words she wanted to scream to everyone, but could not. Not yet. Perhaps never.
Elyssia clenched her fists, feeling the familiar warmth of her inner energy thrumming beneath her skin, begging to be released. She was a martial artist—a fighter, in every sense of the word. She had always fought against expectations, against what people thought she should or could be.
But the fight that raged inside her—the one she could not bring out into the open—was tearing her apart.
She glanced at Leoric, watching him fidget with his quiver, oblivious to the turmoil roiling within her. She admired the assurance he radiated. Elyssia quietly envied him, even. His quiet confidence, the way he navigated the world. She could never imitate that as her old self. Not even as Emmy, really. But here and now? As Elyssia, she could do it.
But him? At least it doesn’t feel like he’s imitating someone. Pretending.
She shook her head. No, she was not pretending. Not at this very moment, at least. She was Elyssia—every inch of her. But the weight of her past life clung to her like the wet air of this swamp, dragging her down, making it harder to breathe. Soon, she would have to pretend again when they got to the city. Because Jason did not know who Elyssia really was. She had never told him. And she feared she could never allow herself to admit the truth to her best friend.
Why can’t I just say it?
“I get it, you know,” Leoric’s voice broke through her thoughts, startling her. She blinked, realising she’d been staring off into the murky horizon, lost in her own head. “I wasn’t always this methodical,” he said, surprising her.
“Oh?” Elyssia raised an eyebrow, her tone half-amused, half-curious. “Something happened? What changed?”
Leoric shrugged, glancing around as if weighing his next words carefully. “When I started... back then, I was younger. A different person, almost. I tried being reactive, like you. But things fell apart. Got sloppy. I needed control, so I trained myself to plan for everything.”
Elyssia smirked. “And you think I don’t have control?”
“Not what I meant.” He responded with a measured tone, one that held respect beneath it. “You’re fast. You’ve got instincts. I... admire that. But it’s different for me. I’ve always needed to think things through. I need to understand the why behind anything I do. It’s why I’m an entrepreneur, I think. I don’t do well at just following instructions. I need the complete picture, or I just… freeze.”
Her smirk faded slightly as she watched him. Maybe they were more alike than she thought. Different methods, sure, but both of them trying to figure out their own path. Both of them fighting their own battles.
But hers... hers was a fight she could not win with fists alone.
“Yeah, well... you’ve got your way, I’ve got mine,” she said, trying to sound casual. “But you know… Maybe we’re here because your goddess Zephyra’s pushing you. Teach you to dance with chaos, eh?”
“I doubt it. This zone certainly didn’t show up in the game world just for the sake of teaching me a lesson.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head, “You’re an excellent teacher, you know.”Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
“You’re kidding, right?” She snorted, waving him off. “I’m not anyone’s teacher.”
“You’re good at it,” he said, his voice insistent, quiet but firm. “I think you could be more than a great martial artist. A lot more.”
Elyssia opened her mouth, but no words came out as she hesitated. She had almost chewed him out for suggesting that, but held back.
“I guess.”
Her heart tightened in her chest. It’s not his fault, he doesn’t know me. Many had pushed Emmy toward leadership roles before. They were always nudging, always hinting that Elyssia ought to do more. That she could be more—a role model, a guide. A leader.
But she did not want that. She did not want people looking to her for answers.
I’d be terrible at it. Imagine that, following someone who is faking it one hundred percent of the time. An impostor can’t be a mentor.
She had lived her entire life in denial about who she was. She refused to admit to anyone who she was for fear of rejection or ridicule. How can anyone look at me and feel inspired? Everything about me is a lie.
What everyone saw when they looked at her was the image she projected for them to see. And that was a role, a mask. It was not her. Nobody knew the real Emmy. Because I’ve let no one see the real me.
She looked away, the weight of the moment settling over her. The air grew still. Even the distant sounds of lizardmen faded into the background, as if they all agreed to take a minute of silence in solidarity.
She tried to convince herself. You’ve always been a woman, dummy. This body is who you really are.
The words burned in her throat. She wished she could scream it out loud. That she could tell everyone, make them understand. Tell them this was not just a character she had picked. That it was not just a game, but a portal to another world. This was her.
But she swallowed it down, forcing the feeling back into the pit of her stomach where it always sat. Silent. Hidden.
The wetlands stretched on before them, an endless maze of mud and water. The muggy air weighed her down, thick and suffocating, mirroring the heaviness in her chest. Elyssia let out a long sigh, her shoulders tensing as she kept trudging forward, the muck of the wetlands sticking to her boots with every step. The smell of rot and salt hung heavy in the air, a far cry from the harsh cliffs and craggy terrain of Stonereach. She wrinkled her nose. This was a step backward—level-wise and progress-wise. The deeper they pushed into this zone, the more it felt like she was being stifled.
They were moving closer to Luminara, which meant the enemies would keep getting easier. Here, a swarm of monsters would barely challenge her. She glanced over at Leoric, his steps methodical as he kept surveying the swamp with those sharp, calculating eyes.
She tilted her head in his direction. “Hey Bunny. What you know about the lizardmen?”
“Not much. I’ve read they favour ambushes and hit-and-run tactics.”
“Right. And how do you plan to handle that?” Elyssia asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to see if he would step into the predictable ranger role.
Leoric furrowed his brow, running through his list of strategies. “I’ve got a few traps ready—I can slow them down, maybe set up some distance between us.”
Elyssia sighed, shaking her head. “You always default to encounters that start on your terms. But the thing about lizardmen?” She smirked. “They don’t give you time to set up your perfect scenarios.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong with having a solid plan for a battle, anyway?”
“Nothing.” Elyssia waved her hand dismissively. “Look. They’re fast, unpredictable, and don’t follow any real pattern. They swim in the muck, and show up already on you. You’ll have to react to them. There’s no ‘preparation’ here, only improvisation. And that’s what you need to learn.”
As if on cue, nearby reeds rustled, and several lizardmen burst from the tall aquatic grasses, spears raised, their scaled bodies glistening with swamp water.
Elyssia leapt backward, gracefully dodging their initial strikes, but did nothing more. She folded her arms, watching the lizardmen closely, her body poised for movement but not retaliation.
Elyssia effortlessly kept avoid their attacks, and the three lizardmen strikes eventually slowed as confusion, exhaustion and frustration grew visible on their face, their efforts apparently meaningless. Soon, they turned their attention to Leoric, imagining him an easier prey, or at least they could hurt.
“They’re all yours, bunny boy,” she said out. “Show me what you’ve got.”
Leoric’s eyes widened. “Wait—you’re not fighting?”
“Nope. You are. And I’m not lifting a finger. Dodge, weave, trap—do what you gotta do, but I will not save you.” Elyssia’s lips curled into a smirk. “It’s time you learned to think on your feet.”
Leoric looked panicked for a second as the lizardmen closed in, but then he nocked an arrow and fired, hitting the first one in the shoulder. The lizardman hissed and stumbled, but did not fall.
“Good shot, but too slow,” Elyssia said in a teasing voice. “They’ll be on you in a second!”
Another lizardman lunged at Leoric, its spear thrusting forward. Leoric barely dodged, rolling into the muck.
“Nice! But you’re still thinking too much. React. Don’t plan.”
Leoric gritted his teeth, the string biting into his fingers as he fired. The arrow struck the lizardman’s legs, sending it stumbling with a guttural hiss.
“Better! Now use the terrain! Quick thinking, not traps.”
Leoric scanned the area, noticing a patch of thick mud nearby. He jumped back, leading the next charging lizardman into the natural hazard. As the creature lunged, its feet dug deep in the mud. Leoric did not hesitate to use one of his special arrow to harden the mud, trapping the creature in place.
Elyssia’s grin widened. “There you go! Finish that one before it frees itself.”
Leoric took aim and fired again, striking the lizardman through the throat. The creature gurgled and collapsed.
Panting, Leoric turned to Elyssia, expecting her to jump in now that he had handled one. But she did not move.
“You’re not done yet,” she said, her tone playful but firm.
The two remaining lizardmen charged at Leoric, and Elyssia simply sidestepped their attacks, leaving them entirely to him.
“Remember—don’t think, just react,” Elyssia called out, her eyes watching him intently. “You’ve got the skills. Just let go of all that planning. You can’t control every situation, but you can always control how you react to things.”
Leoric grunted, his body moving faster now. He fired a bundle of arrows at point-blank range, hitting one of the target multiple times. Elyssia nodded appreciatively as he turned what should have been an area of effect attack into a burst damage one. He dodged the spear thrusts as he shifted to the side. His breath came in heavy pants, but he wasn’t hesitating anymore. He was fighting—really fighting—without overthinking every move.
Elyssia nodded approvingly. Maybe I’m not so bad at this teaching thing, after all.
With a final swift movement, Leoric dispatched the last lizardman, its body crumpling into the swampy muck. He stood there, panting, but with a sense of pride shining in his eyes.
Elyssia finally stepped forward, her arms crossed. “Not bad, bunny boy. Maybe you’re not completely hopeless.”
Leoric wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing at her with a newfound respect. “I still think planning has its merits.”
Elyssia chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. But when life doesn’t go according to plan, you’ll be glad you know how to think on your feet. This is like a fire drill. The more crisis you live through, the less you’ll need to plan for them, and your body will just remember what you’re supposed to do.”
Elyssia’s fists clenched. She always hated it when people put her on some kind of pedestal. How often she had heard some colleague or manager use her as an example at work? “I don’t know. Do what M-E would do. Ask yourself what would M-E do?”.
But she had seen it often—her solutions rarely worked for others. Why did people rely so much on imitating instead of finding their own way?
As they continued walking, Elyssia could not help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. For this last battle, she had not shown Leoric what to do. She had helped him find his own way. Maybe guiding him would not be so bad. Maybe he could actually learn from her. Not if he tried to imitate her, but if he took some of her lessons to heart.
But that doesn’t make me a teacher. I’m not teaching him anything. I’m just helping him out. Showing what are his blind spots, and what he can work on improving.
He might say he’s not good at figuring it out on the go, but his actions don’t agree with that statement. I think I just have more confidence in his abilities than he has himself. Boosting his confidence isn’t the same as teaching.
As they crossed further into the wetlands, her mind wandered back to Vaelith. Her friend was pushing through something, just like Leoric was—but Vaelith’s struggles were quieter, deeper. Does she even realise how strong she is? How much she’s holding back?
But such questions would have to wait. For now, they still had to get to Luminara. She smiled, thinking about the upcoming reunion with her friend.
I’m almost there, Vaelith. Wait for me just a little longer.
But then Elyssia’s smile turned upside down. Once I get there, once I’m reunited with Vaelith, I suppose I’ll have to put the mask back on. Pretend to be him, again.
Or maybe. Maybe I won’t have to…