Thorin's First Thundersday of Harvestfall, 1442, Gloam-Barrow Den, entrance.

Elyssia's ears twitched at Vaelith's words, the question hanging in the damp air like a spark waiting to catch.

Esen blinked, his thin frame still trembling from exhaustion. "Yes, of course," he rasped, his head tilting, as if he were trying to infer the mage's intention. "Citizens of the city have asked for my services before."

"Good," Vaelith said, a spark of resolve kindling in her tone. "That's all I need."

Elyssia frowned, crossing her arms. "Okay, I see what you're doing…"

"That's right!" Vaelith grinned and raised one hand, the golden scales on her cheeks and fins reflecting the light of brilliant stars following her fingertips. "I'm thinking of teleporting him ahead of us!"

"Wait, are you serious?" Leoric asked, doubt and surprise palpable in his voice. "Aren't you worried about what will happen if we leave him by himself?"

"That's right," Elyssia echoed flatly, her gaze snapping at the doctor. "I'm not sure if we can trust the doctor to behave if we let him out of our sight."

Esen nodded a few times, silently supporting her assessment.

Elyssia glanced toward the far tunnel at the faint rays of light filtering through the forest canopy. They were nearly out of the Gloam-barrow den. Just beyond stood the Umbraholme guards. "The city watch doesn't know he's behind this yet. But I still worry someone might recognise him."

Vaelith's mouth tightened for an instant. "No problem!" She clapped a fist into an open palm. "We send someone with him to keep him out of trouble."

Leoric tilted his head, brow furrowing. "You mean me? It's not like we have any other choice. Elyssia and Ryan haven't been to the city yet, so they can't teleport there. You could always teleport him first, then follow afterwards… But there's no guarantee he'll wait patiently for you."

Elyssia blinked at him. "Leoric first, doctor second. Vaelith can teleport herself last."

"That works, but…" Leoric added, softening the words with a faint grin. "That leaves you alone with Ryan, and he's barely hanging by a thread. I'm afraid he might unravel at any moment."

Vaelith nodded. "He's right. I'd rather stay here with him."

Ryan mumbled a short "Thank you."

Elyssia did not argue, but she bristled at the implications. She was a mother of two—she could surely watch over a young adult in distress!

However, she needed only a quick glance at the felinae to see how serious Ryan's condition was. He held a vacant stare and leaned heavily on the dracan mage.

She understood some of what Ryan was going through—she had experience dealing with dysphoria, after all. But as a singlet, she could barely picture how worse Ryan's alters made things inside his head.

And that was before Kaelyn absorbed a lifetime of negative feelings from the doctor.

Clearly, Ryan trusted Vaelith and latched onto her, so splitting them up sounded unnecessarily cruel.

"Then we do this," she said. "Send Leoric ahead, and then the three of us can walk to the city at Ryan's pace."

Vaelith nodded. With one free hand, she spun threads of violet light spilling from her fingertips and formed one by one the sigils of a teleport circle. The air grew thick, humming faintly with magic, promise and ozone.

Leoric walked beside her, eyes tracing the growing runes. "I'll keep an eye on the doc, then."

"We won't be very long," Vaelith murmured without looking away from the runes.

"You'll be okay with Ryan?"

She smiled faintly. "Mm-hmm. He's in good hands."

Elyssia looked between them—their quiet trust, the seamless rhythm between words. She envied that kind of connection; it felt like watching two musicians improvise, each anticipating the other's next note.

Esen stood nearby, clutching his satchel like a lifeline. "You're taking a big risk smuggling me in like that. Why?"

"Because killing you wouldn't fix anything," Vaelith said, still tracing. "Umbraholme deserves the truth, not another corpse. Plus, you swore an oath you'd find a cure, right? If you're alive, you can still work towards that."

The runes flared brighter, washing the cavern in a pale amethyst light. Elyssia instinctively shielded her eyes.

When the last sigil clicked into place, Vaelith straightened, breath unsteady but eyes bright. "All right. It's ready for you, Leoric."

"I'm all set."

Seconds later, the circle flared once more, and in a swirl of light and mist, the burrovian ranger was gone.

The remaining magic pulsed once, twice, then faded, leaving only the faint crackle of residual mana. Vaelith did not wait and began tracing a second circle over the ghostly residue of the first. Her hand trembled faintly, but the sigils formed cleanly, the air shimmering with violet static.

Elyssia could feel it even from a few paces away—raw mana bending the air, warping space itself. The kind of spell that left her bones humming.

When Vaelith finally stopped, her scales appeared dulled from exhaustion. "All right. Your turn, Esen. This will take you to Leoric's location. Stay with him, no matter what happens."

Esen hesitated. "What if we run into trouble?"

Vaelith gave him a reassuring smile. "Leoric will figure it out. He's good at that."

The doctor glanced toward Elyssia, as though seeking a second opinion. She met his gaze and offered a small, tired smile. "Don't panic, run or lie. Follow Leoric's lead. He'll know what to do."

The doctor nodded. "Very well."

He stepped into the circle. The violet light climbed up his legs, his arms, and finally swallowed him whole. A soft pop filled the air as the spell collapsed in on itself, leaving only a faint shimmer of afterimage. And just like that, he was gone.

Vaelith exhaled slowly. She circled Ryan's waist with her right hand, steadying him. "All right. You ready?"

The boy, who had silently watched throughout both rituals, finally stirred. His tail twitched once before curling around one leg like a nervous habit. "Yeah…"

"Alright, let's go, then," Vaelith replied. "We'll reunite with Leoric in Umbraholme. You'll get to rest soon, I promise."

Elyssia adjusted the tonfa at her belt and nodded toward the tunnel before them. "Then let's not make them wait. If the guards ask us anything, give vague answers and omissions. Make sure you don't outright lie."

Ryan's gaze remained distant, and Elyssia slowed her pace until she matched his. They left the hollow chamber behind, their boots squelching softly on the mossy floor as they moved toward the exit. The natural light ahead grew brighter with every step—green rays piercing through the dripping leaves, the damp scent of the forest thick in the air.

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When they finally stepped out of the mouth of the den, the cool air hit them like a blessing. The forest was alive; the wind whispering secrets through the trees as unseen animals scurried about. For a moment, Elyssia almost let herself relax.

The two Umbraholme elites stood vigil at the entrance to the den, framed by shadow. The assassin stood motionless, his fur dark as coal, dagger in his sheath. Beside him, the acrobat's bright eyes tracked every movement, her tail swishing lazily as though she were bored but ready to pounce at any second.

"Back already?" the acrobat asked, voice mixing amusement and surprise. "Down one member, and another in rough shape, by the looks of it."

Elyssia forced a polite nod. "Your elders were correct; it was not necromancy. We found the responsible party and stopped them. The dead should calm down now."

The acrobat's eyes flicked to Vaelith, then Ryan. "What about you, blondie? What ails you? You don't appear to have any visible injuries?"

"It's her magic," Vaelith answered in Ryan's stead. "She had to pull a trump card at the end to save the day."

That drew a subtle reaction—just a faint tilt of the assassin's head, but Elyssia did not miss the brief flick of his ear, the tiny twitch of surprise.

"What about the burrovian?" the assassin asked. "It would be a shame to lose someone who showed promise."

"He's alive." Vaelith nodded, calm and unflinching. "He should be in town already—he had important business to take care of, so I teleported him."

The assassin regarded her for a long, silent moment. Then he stepped aside, gesturing to the forest path beyond.

"Good job down there," the acrobat said at last. "Let's hope the city sees it the same way. You'll want to report to the captain when you return. She'll want to hear all the details."

"Of course," Elyssia muttered under her breath.

The acrobat smirked. "Welcome back to the Myrknar woods."

They passed between them without further interference. Elyssia could feel their eyes on her back the entire way, sharp and assessing, until the shadows of the woods swallowed the guards from view. Only when the last trace of the den was gone behind them did she let a long breath out.

Vaelith glanced over her shoulder, a faint smile playing on her lips. "That went better than expected."

"Yeah." Elyssia nodded. "The best lies come wrapped in truth."

Vaelith turned to Ryan. "Sorry for misgendering you there. It felt simpler than explaining your circumstances. But I know it might hurt."

Ryan kept walking, his gaze fixed on the forest ahead. "Did you…? It's fine. I didn't notice…"

The trail wound gently downhill, tracing the edge of a stream that caught stray beams of sunlight through the canopy. The sound of rushing water filled the silence that none of them seemed inclined to break.

Elyssia had never found forests restful. She knew too much about what could move quietly through them. But here, after the suffocating stillness of the Den, the air felt almost kind. The smell of moss and wet bark, the faint glimmer of insects catching light—it was a reminder that the world still existed beyond the dead and their ghosts.

Elyssia's gaze drifted between Ryan and Vaelith.

They walked a few paces behind her. The felinae's shoulders rounded in defeat. Every so often, his ears flicked as though at noises only he could hear. Her own chest ached watching it.

Vaelith stayed close, one hand occasionally steadying him when his steps wavered.

Elyssia was about to say something—ask if they needed anything—when the faint ping of a system notification chimed near her ear. A small icon blinked in the corner of her vision: "Incoming Message: Soraya Naderian."

Elyssia blinked. "Oh? Give me a second…"

Vaelith raised her head slightly. "Something wrong?"

"No. Just…" She frowned at the floating glyph. "An out-of-game message. From a coworker."

"Work related? I thought you had the day off?"

"Maybe?" Elyssia guessed. "Let me check."

She flicked her wrist and opened the message window.

"Soraya: Hey, Em. I know the company wouldn't approve of my reaching out, even during lunch break, but I don't care. I'm just so disappointed you weren't there to share the meal I prepped. Want to meet in a private room for a bit? I saved you some sabzi polo, and a few other things."

Elyssia's lips curved before she could stop herself. She could almost smell the dill and saffron through the words.

Vaelith noticed. "Good news?"

"Ah, Soraya's inviting me to have a quick lunch break with her. I didn't realise it was this late already."

"Well, then go," Vaelith said softly. "I can handle walking Ryan to the city. I'll call for a break for solo activities while you're logged out."

Elyssia hesitated. Ryan had a goal of reaching level thirty and unlocking a new class to help with his dysphoria. But he was in no condition to do that right now. And he visibly could use the downtime to get better.

"Fine. Let's break for fifteen then." She gestured to a shaded clearing ahead where the trail widened near the stream. "I'll just stop here for a bit and join her for lunch. You'll let Leoric know?"

"Of course," Vaelith said, smiling. "Have fun!"

Elyssia stepped aside, letting Vaelith and Ryan pass, the cool air brushing her cheeks. She focused on the message and sent a quick reply. "Sure, you caught me just at the right time."

Soraya's response came as a private chat room invite, and Elyssia accepted it. The forest dissolved in a shimmer of silver light.

The first thing Emmy felt was warmth—sunlight not filtered through branches but spilling freely across a lounge of soft gold. The sterile weight of the FullDive interface lifted, replaced by air that smelled faintly of cardamom and saffron.

It took her a second to realise where she was. The Persian textures gave it away—the patterned rugs, copper bowls filled with dates and nuts, and a low table where steam curled up from twin plates of herbed rice and fish. Every detail felt chosen, not random—as if Soraya had built this place from a memory she wanted to share.

Emmy regretfully glanced down at her own attire. She had not yet procured a suitable wardrobe for her new avatar, much less one appropriate for the event and setting.

Some other day…

The scent of herbs felt impossibly vivid through a synthetic feed—proof that comfort could still be simulated, and maybe connection, too.

Soraya, in her porcelain-skinned dracan avatar Kohana, sat cross-legged on a cushion opposite her, black curls wrapped in a loose scarf, a playful half-smile tugging at her lips. Emmy's arrival made Soraya's eyes light up, and a flush crept up the sylvani's neck.

"Em! I'm so glad you could join me!"

Emmy felt her cheeks redden. The familiar voice settled her nerves. "You picked a hard invitation to refuse."

"Good," Soraya beamed. "This morning, when I made all this, I was so looking forward to sharing it with you! It didn't really click you wouldn't be there until I sat at the table and remembered your quarantine."

Emmy barely smiled, trying to conceal that the day's events made her almost forget their lunch plans. She frantically searched for a topic to talk to divert her attention. "I know you're not worried about contagion yourself… But I'm surprised Sandra let you log out from the office, even if it's just for fifteen."

"I… may not have been entirely forthcoming about exactly who I was going to see and what I was planning to do..." Her eyes darted sideways, guilty and amused at once. "Worth it."

This time, Emmy's smile was genuine. Of course, Soraya acted the same way out of the game as Kohana did inside. They are, after all, the same person.

"Playing with fire? Not afraid of getting disciplined if you're found out?"

"What's the worst they can do?" Soraya asked. "Fire me? Put me on quarantine too? Let them! I'll just pop back in the game and hang out with you if that's the case."

The words were light, but there was a note beneath them—something that made Emmy's pulse skip.

She shook her head, pretending disbelief. "You really don't care either way, huh?"

"Enough about work. Sit," Soraya said, patting the cushion beside her. "Come on."

Emmy hesitated, then obeyed. Soraya's hand brushed hers in passing—warm and light—and Emmy's breath caught.

The smell of saffron and seared garlic hit her, vivid even through synthetic sensors. Emmy's stomach gave a small, traitorous growl.

Soraya laughed softly. "See? You needed this more than I did."

"I suppose," Emmy murmured, blushing. "Anyway… what are we eating?"

Soraya reached forward, dividing the rice into neat portions, the motion unhurried, almost ceremonial. The steam rose between them like incense and the aroma of fresh herbs, tart citrus and butter filled the room.

"This is Sabzi Polo ba Mahi," she said. "Herbed rice with fish—traditional for new beginnings."

Emmy looked up. "New beginnings?"

Soraya met her eyes. "It felt right, given your circumstances."

A beat passed—then Emmy smiled, half-flustered, half-touched. "The transformation…"

"Girl, new you is worth celebrating!" Her grin softened. "Besides, I was looking for an excuse to cook this."

"Well, it smells fantastic."

For a while they ate quietly, the faint clink of utensils filling the pause. Emmy found herself relaxing more with every passing second. The contrast with the dark, mossy cavern she had left behind could not have been starker. Here, the silence hummed with comfort and things that did not need to be said aloud.

The taste was bright, alive—lemon and herbs and so many spices. For a moment, fatigue melted from Emmy's shoulders. She exhaled, eyes half-closed.

"How's your morning been?" Soraya asked, scooping some more food onto Elyssia's plate.

"A little too eventful, to be honest," Emmy admitted, a little bitter. "We ran the second dungeon once, got some loot, XP and levels."

"Sounds great? So why does it feel like there's a 'but' coming?"

"Yeah… We also stumbled upon something and got some complications."

"Sounds serious…" Soraya tilted her head. "Would you prefer we not talk about that for now? Pretend everything's fine for a minute, just the two of us, doing something totally normal?"

Emmy closed her eyes and exhaled. She decided not to argue, so when she reopenned her eyes, she smiled.

"Better?" Soraya asked, tilting her head.

Emmy nodded, swallowing. "Much."

Soraya smiled—smaller now, sincere. "Good."

The quiet stretched again. Emmy realised her hand had drifted toward the centre of the table, close enough that their fingers almost touched. Neither of them moved away.

For the first time since entering the den, Emmy allowed herself to just be. Not as Elyssia the adventurer or M.E. the software engineer—but as herself, sitting across from someone who made the world feel a little less heavy.

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