Umber’s First Darksday of Harvestfall, 1442, alleyways, city of Luminara.


    The weight of Elyssia’s protective hand on her arm was like a tether. Vaelith could feel the warmth of her touch, but more than that, the tension behind it. The grip had softened, but the fire had not left her eyes.


    It simmered just beneath the surface. Vaelith could sense it—like the quiet before a storm.


    She shivered, not from the cold, but from the turmoil inside her.


    Why did it always have to be like this?


    Why did the people around her fight so hard to shield her, to protect her from things she was not even sure she needed protecting from?


    Elyssia had been like this ever since they were kids—back then, it had felt like admiration. Elyssia’s strength was something Vaelith could rely on.


    But now, standing in the narrow streets of Luminara, with the tall, handsome burrovian glancing warily back at them, the warmth of Elyssia’s protection felt... stifling.


    She tried to relax, but her body refused to listen. Her skin shivered, the golden shimmer of her dracan scales catching the street’s flickering lamplight.


    I look like Luxoria.


    The thought throbbed in her mind, unsettling.


    Elyssia’s rage was not just about the scene in the square—it was about the eyes on her, the stares, the attention that Vaelith had never wanted.


    Kaelyn, though, was another story. She thrived in that attention, and while it had made Vaelith nervous, there was a strange part of her that admired Kaelyn for it.


    She had never known someone who could wield femininity like that—like a weapon, sharp and deliberate, yet effortless.


    How does she do it?


    How could Kaelyn stand there, facing Elyssia’s fury, completely unfazed?


    Vaelith had been trembling like a leaf the whole time.


    As they walked further into the dimly lit streets, Vaelith looked around, trying to figure out where they had ended up. The old and worn cobblestones were familiar.


    Vaelith suddenly realised she had just been here, not an hour ago, helping the old man light the lanterns along this very road.


    It had been a moment of quiet, where she had learned about control, about subtlety.


    Serendipity.


    She smiled at the memories, faintly. This place—this path—it felt like an echo of her own journey, one she had not even realised she was on.


    But this was not the time to reminisce.


    Vaelith’s thoughts snapped back to the present as the silence between them grew heavier. Elyssia’s footsteps were rigid, her posture tense, and the ranger’s gaze flicked between them, his brow furrowed with unspoken questions.


    Vaelith’s heart ached.


    She did not want this—did not want Elyssia to feel like she had to fight for her.


    She did not want this stranger to feel like he had to mediate.


    Kaelyn had meant no harm. She was just... being herself.


    Vaelith stopped abruptly. “Wait.” The word escaped her lips with unexpected force, ringing with an authority she barely recognised—Jason’s tone, but in her voice.


    Elyssia paused, turning to face her, one eyebrow arched.


    The brown-haired beauty stopped too, his brows furrowing in concern.


    Vaelith took a deep breath, her hands instinctively brushing the amethyst pendant that hung around her neck. It grounded her, gave her something solid to latch to.


    “I need to say something.” Her voice wavered, but she pushed through it.


    She glanced behind, at Kaelyn, who had been following them at a distance. Her blonde tail swayed lazily behind her, as if none of this concerned her.


    “Kaelyn didn’t... mean to hurt me.” Vaelith’s words felt heavy in her mouth. “She was... helping me.”


    She looked at Elyssia, whose fierce gaze had not softened one bit.


    Elyssia’s eyes burned with protective fire. She pointed in the direction they had come from. “Helping? That’s what you call what just happened back there?”


    Vaelith swallowed.


    “Yes. I mean... no. Not exactly. But she didn’t mean any harm.”


    She hesitated, her eyes darting between Elyssia and the man at her side.


    “You don’t understand, Elyssia. Nobody wants to party with us. The priest’s guild rejected me because of how I look. Everyone assumes I’m trying to manipulate them because of how I look. Because I look like Luxoria. Nobody trusts me.”


    Elyssia’s expression faltered, her protective anger simmering into something closer to regret.


    Vaelith hesitated, her voice quieter but more certain, gesturing at the scales on her arms. “Because of those.”


    She glanced at Elyssia, her voice growing more urgent. “And you? People don’t trust out-of-meta tanks either. You know that.”


    “None of them understand how the class works. They’re just following cookie-cutting builds,” she said, harshly.


    “I know you’re good, Ely. You know I do. You’ve carried me through so much before, and I know you’ll never complain about pulling twice or thrice your share. And I’ve seen you do it. But nobody else does.”


    Elyssia’s new friend smiled at that.


    Okay, looks like he already knows, at least. They must have partied together on the way here.


    His rabbit’s ears twitched, but he remained silent, watching Vaelith intently, as if trying to piece together the puzzle of her.


    Vaelith’s gaze softened as she turned toward Kaelyn. “She’s... bold, and maybe she doesn’t always do things the way we’d expect, but she’s not our enemy.”


    She glanced back at Elyssia, her violet eyes pleading. “Please... trust me on this.”


    Elyssia’s jaw tightened, but the anger in her eyes dimmed. She looked between Vaelith and Kaelyn, and for the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossed her features.


    The man stepped forward, breaking the tension with his quiet voice. “Maybe you should listen to your friend. You know her, don’t you? Can’t you trust her judgment?”


    Elyssia’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of her anger slipping away as she let out a long breath. “Fine,” she said, her voice resigned.


    “But I’m keeping my eye on you,” she said, casting a sharp glance at Kaelyn.


    Kaelyn’s lips curled into a playful grin. “I’m counting on it, peque?a elfa.”You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Vaelith’s heart raced, her body still tense from the confrontation. But for the first time in a long time, she felt a flicker of something else—something that felt like control. Not the control Kaelyn wielded with ease, but the kind that came from speaking her truth.


    As they resumed walking, Vaelith’s gaze lingered on the flickering lanterns that lined the street.


    Serendipity indeed.


    Her fingers brushed the amethyst pendant at her throat.


    Maybe she was not as powerless as she had always felt.


    Maybe there was more to her journey than she had realised.


    It might take some effort to get Elyssia to see eye to eye with Kaelyn.


    But at least I found a healer who agreed to work with us!


    <hr>


    Elyssia’s grip loosened as she watched Vaelith’s plea sink in. The dracan’s soft voice tugged at something deep inside her, but it did not erase the anger bubbling beneath the surface.


    Elyssia wanted to shake her, to snap her out of this passive acceptance of whatever game Kaelyn was playing.


    But she could not. Not without doing more harm than good.


    Vaelith was fragile—that much Elyssia could see, even if her friend could not. The dead look in her eyes, the way she always followed quietly behind, never stepping into the spotlight unless forced to.


    It hurt to see it because Elyssia recognised it.


    I was just like her before.


    It was like looking into a mirror of her past self, when her own life had been a series of quiet concessions, of letting others decide who she was, what she should be.


    Elyssia had convinced Vaelith to join her in this game, never once considering he might say no.


    She knew her friend too well. They had been friends for so long, and yet, she realised now that maybe she did not really treat her fairly.


    Maybe she was taking advantage of that trust, dragging Vaelith into something that was not just a game.


    If something happens, it’ll be my fault.


    She glanced down at the golden shimmer of Vaelith’s scales, an uneasy feeling twisting in her gut.


    She’s going to realise, eventually.


    Vaelith would figure it out, that same journey of self-discovery that Elyssia had gone through—and then what?


    Would it destroy her life, the way it had nearly destroyed Elyssia’s?


    She divorced Claire. She could not bear to tell her about who she truly was. Their marriage had fallen apart, everything they had built together suddenly seemed like a lie.


    And now, with Vaelith married to Claire’s best friend, Lisa... If Claire’s radical views had even slightly transferred to her friend…


    What if Lisa and Jason break up because of me? What if Jason loses everything, just like I did?


    Elyssia could not bear to see another relationship fall apart. Especially if she was to blame. The thought made her chest tighten.


    She had no right to push Vaelith, to guide her down that path.


    But every instinct screamed at her to protect her, to shield her from the same pain Elyssia had gone through.


    She cast a sidelong glance at Kaelyn, who was idling behind them, tail swinging lazily.


    Elyssia’s jaw clenched. Kaelyn was strong and confident—traits Elyssia had learned to admire in other women.


    But in Kaelyn’s case, it was something else. The way she manipulated Vaelith, the way she had pulled the spotlight on both of them, so she could shine brighter in Vaelith’s radiance.


    Elyssia instinctively did not trust her.


    Kaelyn handled the crowd like a seasoned tank—drawing the attention to herself with ease, letting the spotlight warm her while Vaelith stood exposed in the crossfire.


    It was not just manipulation; it was the most vile kind of control.


    Elyssia had known people like that before—people who thrived on making others look weaker, more fragile, so they could shine brighter in comparison.


    Vaelith did not have the hit points or armour of a tank. Neither figuratively nor literally.


    And putting your teammate in danger like that was the worst offense a tank could do.


    But Elyssia realised her anger at Kaelyn was not just because of her protective nature. Something about Kaelyn felt off.


    She was still wearing her starter gear, despite being clearly higher level.


    The way she made herself look weak and helpless while clearly revelling in attention—it rubbed Elyssia the wrong way.


    She had fought her entire life to stop being seen as an object, a tool for others to project onto, and Kaelyn seemed to embrace it.


    Kaelyn’s weakness was an act. A performance.


    Elyssia had spent too many years learning how to recognise predators dressed as friends.


    She could tell from her smugness, and her knack for making herself the centre of attention. She manipulated others with such ease, a performance that was all too familiar.


    But no. There was something worse than all of that. The real reason Elyssia could not like Kaelyn.


    She had humiliated Vaelith in front of that crowd. She played with her feelings, and did it in front of all those strangers. Elyssia was not willing to let that slide.


    But why am I the one who’s pissed? Vaelith had every right to be. She should be! Am I angry in her stead?


    Elyssia could not shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, she was the one who felt humiliated, not Vaelith. Kaelyn’s spotlight might have burned bright, but Vaelith had taken it in stride.


    Was Elyssia really trying to protect her friend, or was she just trying to shield herself from her own past?


    What if Vaelith doesn’t need my protection?


    Maybe she was stronger than Elyssia gave her credit for, and Elyssia was the one clinging to old wounds, projecting her own pain onto her friend.


    The thought stung, but it lingered, like a splinter just beneath the skin.


    Leoric’s quiet voice broke through her thoughts. “So? What will it be, Elyssia?”


    She sighed, her gaze shifting toward her new friend, Leoric.


    A quiet mystery.


    Despite how she treated him, he had impressed her with his skill in the game—there was something about him that struck a familiar chord, a sense of kinship that she could not identify.


    He played the game with precision, with preparation. She did not really hold that against him, though she had cautioned him about being too rigid.


    The game, just like life, did not always go according to plan. Sometimes, you had to adapt.


    And yet, for all his preparation and thoughtful strategy, he was a mirror image of her in a way. Not literally, but in the way he embraced his in-game identity, the way he wore it like a second skin.


    Elyssia could tell, even if Leoric had not outright said it, that this character—this appearance—was not just an avatar. It was something more.


    She understood that better than anyone, having built her own character to reflect her true self. There was an unspoken understanding—a quiet magnetism between them. A sense that told her they were kindred.


    Was he transgender too, like she was?


    She knew how dangerous it was to assume, but she also knew better than to ask out loud.


    He would share, someday, if he felt comfortable to do so.


    In the meantime, it did not anything about who he was. He had been solid so far. He did not look down on her for her unorthodox choices in the game, nor did he treat her as some unreachable figure to emulate.


    She appreciated that, even if she did not say it aloud. There was potential in him, and maybe—just maybe—he would find his own path, just as she had.


    Her gaze softened, finally letting some of the anger slip away as she turned back to Vaelith. She could not push her friend too hard. Not yet. But she also could not let this manipulation stand unchecked.


    “Okay. Let’s hear it, then. Tell me why you really want to join us,” she asked Kaelyn.


    Letting Kaelyn get too close to Vaelith is a risk.


    It was not just about the game anymore. Elyssia feared what might happen if Kaelyn took her place—if Vaelith started listening to Kaelyn more than to her, letting Kaelyn’s influence creep in until there was no room left for Elyssia to protect her.


    Kaelyn jutted her hips. “Why, it’s obvious. You’re the most gente interesante in the city—the entire game, even.”


    Gente interesante.


    The words dripping with the same faux-exotic charm she had been using since the moment she had appeared.


    Elyssia had seen that trick before. Kaelyn was not the first person she had met who tried to dress up their personality with borrowed flair.


    It was a mask, one that slipped too easily when you were not paying attention.


    Elyssia glared at her. Kaelyn wanted to position herself as indispensable. Elyssia could see it in the way her eyes gleamed when she spoke, like someone already plotting their next move.


    Kaelyn’s smirk faded for just a second, replaced by something sharper—more calculated.


    The shift was so subtle, Elyssia almost missed it.


    But there it was. A flicker of cold focus beneath the mask of irreverence.


    She was not playing for fun; she was playing to win.


    “Fine, fine. Unlike my pares, I’m smart enough to realise that healing an evasion tank means fewer small mana-efficient heals, but rare, bigger, faster emergency heals. Keeps me on my toes, but also much less tedious work, you know? If I’m going to be healing, I’d rather it be exciting, entiendes?”


    Every time Kaelyn slipped a Spanish phrase into the conversation, Elyssia noticed how it threw people off-kilter.


    It was just enough to make them pause, trying to piece together what she had said, giving Kaelyn a few extra seconds to deflect any challenges coming her way.


    It was not about the words themselves—it was about control. She had mastered the art of making people focus on the wrong thing.


    Elyssia rolled her eyes. “You know, if you’ve got time to twiddle your thumbs and no one to heal, you’ve got time to throw nukes at the enemy, right?”


    “Green DPS? Love it,” Kaelyn said, grinning, eyes gleaming with something Elyssia could not quite place.


    She was playing the long game—of that, Elyssia was certain.


    What she had not figured out yet was how far Kaelyn would go, or what the end goal really was.


    But the more Kaelyn lingered, the more Elyssia could feel it—the sense of something bigger brewing beneath the surface.


    Vaelith was right—nobody else would party with them. They were different, and the game community did not know how to deal with them.


    But Elyssia had never cared about fitting in.


    She would protect her friends, even if they did not realise they needed protecting.


    Even if it meant biting her tongue for now.


    She glanced at Leoric again, catching his thoughtful gaze. He was still trying to figure her out, but that was fine. She was not here to be anyone’s guide or mentor. She did not want people following in her footsteps.


    But maybe Leoric could keep up with her.


    She would have to be prudent, though.


    In the game, she could heal, could shield and protect those she cared about with the right spells.


    But in life, there were no potions to fix broken relationships, no spells to undo the damage of hard truths.


    And that terrified her.


    Kaelyn extended her hand. “So? I take it we’ll be working together, miss martial artist?”


    Vaelith looked pleadingly at Elyssia.


    For you, Vaelith. I’m doing this because you asked.


    Taking a long, steadying breath, Elyssia prepared herself for what was to come. She grasped Kaelyn’s hand. “We’ll work with you. You should thank Vaelith for that.”


    Without a trace of irony on her face, Kaelyn performed a courteous bow to Vaelith. “Thanks you, mi diosa. Looking forward to it.”