Ignis' First Firesday of Harvestfall, 1442, City of Frostspire.

The bonfire flickered warmly in the centre of Frostspire's main market square, its flames leaping high enough to cast wavering shadows against the surrounding longhouses. Elyssia trailed after Kohana, her boots crunching through the snow. The cold still clung to her like a stubborn shadow, but the promise of food—and perhaps the company—was enough to keep her moving.

The wind near the square carried a myriad of scents: the rich, meaty aroma of stew simmering in iron pots, the earthy tang of roasted root vegetables, and the unmistakable scent of beef gravy. Elyssia's stomach growled audibly, earning her a sly grin from Kohana.

"Hungry, huh?" Kohana teased, her spade-tipped tail flicking playfully. "Good thing Frostspire knows how to feed people. You've got to try their hunter's stew. And the poutine? It's a killer. Literally—if you eat too much, it might kill you."

Elyssia rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth quirked up. "I'll take my chances. I've survived worse things today."

"Barely." Kohana moved towards a building, lifting the furs that acted as a door. "Welcome to the feast hall."

Elyssia stepped inside. In its centre stood a large central hearth, with multiple people standing nearby, tending to pots or working at smaller tables. Others kept feeding the fire and making sure it remained under control. Tables formed a giant circle around the heart so everyone sitting would be equidistant to the only source of heat. The well-insulated walls protected against the cold far better than Elyssia thought possible without technology or magic. The many open vents higher up the walls allowed the smoke to escape, while letting none of the cold get inside. Fur-draped benches that looked cosy and comfortable formed an even larger circle around the tables.

Scanning the area for a place to sit, Kohana located an uncrowded table and sat down. She winked to the sylvani as she leaned her war hammer against the table next to her. "Stick with me, and you'll be fine. I'll make sure you don't drown in cheese curds."

Elyssia shook her head, but her chest felt lighter. There was something about Kohana's relentless cheer that made the icy cold feel just a little more bearable.

Kohana gestured, and an elderly woman who was tending two bubbling cauldrons stepped closer to their table. She was a northerner, tall and broad-shouldered, her red hair streaked with silver. She greeted them with a warm smile that crinkled her freckled cheeks. "Hello there, Kohana. What can I get you two? "

Kohana grinned. "Hello Elska! Stew, with a side of poutine. For both of us. And make it hearty—she's earned it." She jerked a thumb at Elyssia, who blinked, taken by surprise.

"I can pay for myself, you know," Elyssia said, crossing her arms.

"Oh, I know," Kohana replied breezily. "But consider this my treat. You've been lugging us both through the icy wilderness all day."

Elyssia hesitated for a moment. Her instinct to protest warred with a small, inexplicable warmth in her chest. She gave Kohana a sidelong glance. "Fine. But don't think this means I owe you anything."

A chuckle escaped Elska's lips as she expertly ladled the steaming stew, filling two wooden bowls to the brim before delicately placing them in front of both women. But it was the next dish that truly caught Elyssia's attention; the woman returned with plates piled high with golden-brown french fries, crisp edges glinting in the firelight. On top of the fries was a mountain of some of the largest, squeakiest cheese curds Elyssia had ever seen. She thought they looked like little snowballs scattered across a golden battlefield. Then Elska brought out a steaming iron pot in one gloved hand, tilting it slightly as she wielded a hefty ladle in the other.

With deliberate care, she poured thick, molten beef gravy over the pile. The steaming, dark brown liquid cascaded down like lava, flooding the plate with its rich, savoury scent. Elyssia's eyes widened as the heat began working its magic right before her. Cheese curds softened and melted under the gravy's embrace, their pristine edges collapsing into gooey, molten rivulets. The fries themselves twisted and bowed under the sheer weight of it all, their crispy structure giving way to the steamy assault. On the plate, a sizzling spectacle unfolded as the gravy and cheese, in a process more akin to alchemy than cooking, combined to create something truly extraordinary.

It transfixed Elyssia. This was not food. It was an event. A dare. The smoking dish seemed to promise nothing short of third-degree burns if she dared consume any of it too soon.

Kohana, with absolutely no hesitation, speared a massive forkful of the mix. Fries, gravy, and molten cheese swirled together in a dripping bite that looked like it might melt through the tines of her fork. She stuffed it into her mouth with a satisfied hum, her beautiful sky-blue eyes sliding closed as she chewed, the look on her face nothing short of pure bliss.

After swallowing her first mouthful, Kohana opened one eye and shot Elyssia a smirk. "So good! And you owe me nothing but your sparkling company, sweet sylvani," she said, gesturing toward the steaming plate. "Eat up! Doesn't taste the same once it cools down, or the fries get soggy."

Elyssia looked at Kohana in horror. First, the women did not care about the ridiculously cold climate, not even flinching as snow dusted her bare shoulders and scaled cheeks. But now, she was casually stuffing steaming, molten cheese in her mouth like it was no hotter than a spring breeze?

What is she even made of?

Elyssia watched Kohana devour more of the poutine without even flinching. It was almost comforting how relentless the dracan could be in her teasing, in her warmth—almost too comforting. It would be so easy to fall into this moment, to believe that Kohana really cared, that she was not just saying all of this because it was convenient or because Elyssia was good at keeping aggro.

But would she run away again? It was not Claire who left, after all; it was Emmy who could no longer endure living a half-truth. For all her faults, Emmy had to admit one thing; Claire had attempted to keep their marriage together. She had offered Emmy multiple paths to figure out how to mend whatever was broken. However, Claire had insisted Emmy was the one who needed help, had to change. Emmy had known this was not something she could simply solve with therapy. Still… Claire knew Emmy better than most people ever had. They had been together for years.

If things didn't work out with her… Why would Kohana be any different?

For a few moments, there was only the sound of clinking spoons and forks, the crackle of the fire, and the occasional murmurs of other patrons. Elyssia eyed the poutine with suspicion and opted to dig into her bowl of stew first.

I won't die from swallowing lava today!

She scooped an overflowing spoonful of stew and started with a smell test. It had a strong odour of tender game meat, onions, carrots, potatoes, and spices she was unfamiliar with. She waited, watching the steam curl, wondering if maybe this was always her mistake—rushing in before things had time to cool.

She blew over the content of her spoon a few times before daring to take a bite. Despite it having cooled, the meal burned her from the inside out, chasing away the cold lingering in her core. She closed her eyes in appreciation of the rich flavours, all mixing as she chewed slowly. She wanted this moment—this sensation—to last forever, even though she knew it could not and would not. Nothing this warm ever lasted. It always cooled. Hardened. Congealed. Just like everything else.

Elyssia wrapped her chilled fingers around the warm bowl, letting the heat soak into her bones. The stew was rich, almost overwhelming in its complexity—it reminded her of Kohana in a way. Unexpectedly layered, comforting in a way she had not expected. And just like the stew, she was not sure if she could handle it. She took another bite anyway.

When she opened her eyes, she immediately noticed how Kohana was watching her, her head tilted as she looked at her with a knowing smile. Elyssia felt her cheeks turn red. "Huh… do I have anything on my face?"

The black-haired, blue-scaled dracan burst out laughing. "No, no, nothing like that. Is it your first time eating anything in this game?"

She slowly nodded in confirmation. "Yes, it is…?"

After all, Elyssia had not received, purchased, or looted any food since she started playing yesterday. Of course, she had read about the benefits of eating, but since those were percent-based, she knew the effect of low-level food was imperceptible. Therefore, she had purposefully ignored the feature.

Kohana's genuine smile remained plastered on her face. "Well, that explains that. Food in this game is so good! It's going to run all those VR restaurants out of business once people figure it out. Beats pretty much any VR food you've ever had, right?"

Elyssia looked at the stew bowl and her plate of poutine before meeting Kohana's gaze again. "Better than my recent VR diet… It also beats most meat-space food I've ever made. And I wasn't half-a-bad-cook! I cooked often for Claire and the kids, back when…"

She stopped herself and turned to gaze at her food plates again. She did not like bringing up her time with her ex. To be frank, she had enjoyed cooking, even though she thought Claire's standards were often way out of her league. They lived worlds apart, and it still surprised her they even got married. But now, she sorely missed the big family dinners. Mostly because she longed to see Ewan and Maya in person again. She started feeling emotional and before she realised it happened; tears formed in the corner of her eyes. She raised her left hand to wipe at them.

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Don't worry, Kohana, it's just dust in my eyes!

But her attentive friend reacted faster and scooped Elyssia's hand between both of hers. Elyssia froze immediately, her mind struggling to shift gears. Kohana's warm, gentle hands completely enveloped hers, the scales on her hands soft and warm against Elyssia's own. The heat from her touch spread through her like a second bonfire, chasing away some invisible frost. For a split second, she fought the urge to pull her hand back—this was too much, too intimate, too real. What if Kohana saw through her? What if she realized this was not the real her? That she was not Elyssia, this capable sylvani adventurer, but someone awkward and fumbling and… broken? What if she realized she was not just wearing Elyssia like armour… she wanted to be her?

Kohana's hands remained. They were warm and steady, cradling Elyssia's hand as if it was something fragile, something precious. Elyssia's hand remained steady, though every instinct told her to pull free. She waited, bracing herself for Kohana to say something flippant, something which would shatter the strange, fragile stillness between them. But Kohana just held on, her touch as sure as her gaze.

And then she spoke. "Hey. It's okay, girl. Don't think of her or those days, okay? Just enjoy your meal with me, here and now. Can you do that?"

The words were simple, but the earnestness in her blue eyes sent a flutter through Elyssia's chest, leaving her breathless. The sylvani blinked rapidly, looking down at their joined hands.

Is this really happening?

She swallowed, forcing herself to push down the maelstrom of doubt and fear that churned in her gut. "... Okay," she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper, almost imperceptible in the feast hall.

Kohana's lips curled into a gentle smile, her sharp canines peeking just slightly. "Good." She gave Elyssia's hand one last squeeze before letting go, the warmth lingering even as she returned to her poutine. "Now, stop making me look like the only one enjoying this masterpiece of cheese and carbs."

Elyssia huffed out a laugh, grateful for the way Kohana's humour eased the tension. She picked up her fork, spearing a cautious bite of the still-steaming poutine, but only after letting it cool several seconds. The fries were still crunchy, the cheese gooey and rich, the gravy's savoury tang tying it all together. Her eyes widen in shock. "It's… good," she said, her voice thick with surprise.

Kohana grinned triumphantly. "Told ya! Best in the tundra, hands down. You'll be dreaming about this when we're neck-deep in some dungeon, I promise you."

Elyssia smiled despite herself. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to just exist here, at this fire-lit table in the middle of this frozen, brutal world, with Kohana's laughter filling the air and a plate of food warming her from the inside out. For the next short while, the two of them ate in silence. Elyssia was content; sharing a meal, being near Kohana? It was enough; no need for words. The experience of communal eating in this hall reminded Elyssia of the lunch they had shared earlier with Priya, Kehlani, and Amirah.

After several bites of both of the plates in front of her, Elyssia looked at the half-empty bowl and mountain of fries and admitted defeat. She pushed them away a few inches. "I don't think my stomach can handle another bite."

The dracan eyed the empty plate and bowl in front of her, and then at Elyssia's leftovers. With no hesitation, she set hers aside, reached out and slid the sylvani's half-finished plates in front of her. She turned her gaze inquisitively towards Elyssia, her blue eyes sparkling, almost begging for permission. "Mind if I dig in, then?"

How was her stomach not full already? And already so eager for seconds?!

She shrugged, smiling. "Be my guest. It's your money, and I'm beyond full."

Kohana's face lit up. "Don't mind if I do!"

With a sigh of contentment, Elyssia gathered the thick, plush furs from the bench and enveloped herself in their comforting weight, the fur acting as a soft, warm cloak. She leaned back, closing her eyes as she let her stomach digest.

Meanwhile, Kohana gobbled down the rest of both plates like she had been starving for a week. After she stacked the empty plates with the others, she turned to look at the bundled-up sylvani. She leaned forward, elbows on the table and head resting against her left arm, looking into her eyes. "So, what's next for you, Em?"

Elyssia opened one eye and noticed the dracan was staring at her. "You mean after I make sure I don't freeze to death in this place?"

Kohana chuckled, but her expression softened, her teasing tone giving way to something quieter, more genuine. "I mean... for you. Not just in the game. What do you want?"

The question caught Elyssia off guard. She hesitated and straightened her back. She looked around; her gaze settling on the empty plates, as if the answer might lurk there somehow.

What do I want?

She had spent so much of her life hiding, surviving, trying not to be noticed. Wanting felt dangerous. It meant hope, and hope had a way of getting crushed.

"I... don't know?" she said finally, her voice quieter than she intended. "I guess... maybe just feel like I'm enough? Like I can just... be."

Kohana did not laugh or tease her. She did not even speak right away. Instead, she scooted closer on the bench, just enough so that her right arm could circle her narrow waist. It was such a simple gesture, but Elyssia felt the warmth and intimacy of it keenly.

"You are enough. You can 'just be' and exist," Kohana said, her voice low but steady. "I hope you realise that. You do, right?"

Elyssia stiffened, her grip tightening, pulling the furs closer. "Don't," she said sharply, though the word came out more like a plea. "Don't say things like that."

"Why not?" Kohana asked, straightening up. "Because it's true? Because I mean it?"

Elyssia turned to look at her, and for once, Kohana was not smiling. Her sky-blue eyes were earnest, unflinching, and it made her chest ache. "You don't know me," she said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. "Not really. You see this—" she gestured to herself, to the confident sylvani avatar she wore like armour, "—but this isn't who I am. It's just a... a mask."

Kohana frowned, her tail flicking against the snow. "I don't buy that. The person who led us through Grimstone Pass, who made all those tools with her own hands, who's sitting here eating poutine like it's the best thing she's ever tasted—that's you, Em. Mask or no mask."

Elyssia looked away, her gaze fixed on the fire. The flames danced, their light reflecting in her glassy eyes. "You say that now, but... you know what I really looked like, who I really am—"

"Yes. I know," Kohana said, interrupting her. Her voice was firm, but not unkind. "I've seen you at work, remember? The suit, the tie, all of it. And guess what? It doesn't change a damn thing."

Elyssia blinked, her throat tightening. "You're just saying that."

Kohana straightened, her usual pleasant grin faltering for just a moment. "Look, Em, I know I joke around a lot. Maybe too much. But when I say I like you, I mean you. Not just the badass sylvani, not just the snarky comebacks, but... you." Her voice softened, her tail flicking restlessly against the bench. "And if I'm being honest, it scares the hell out of me to think you might not believe that. How often do I have to tell you I think that I truly, genuinely love you? That I have loved you for a while? Do you know how hard it is for me to say those words aloud? To know you might never feel the same way?"

Kohana stopped and bit her lip. Elyssia could see tears running down her cheeks, following the edge of the lustrous blue scales that framed her strikingly beautiful face. She reached out with one hand, hesitating for a moment, before wiping a tear that found its way to that cute little scar on Kohana's left cheek.

As her hand pulled away, Kohana gently captured it into her own. Slowly, she guided Elyssia's hand and tenderly nestled it against her cheek, applying gentle pressure. Her scales were warm and smooth beneath Elyssia's fingers, and for a moment, Elyssia felt Kohana needed the contact as much as she did.

"I'm not superhuman, Em." The dracan leaned forward. "I can't help but love who I love. And you're more than just your body, you know? You're everything you do, everything you say, everything you are. And all of that? It's who I'm into. Though I'm not gonna lie, the cute sylvani with those adorable freckles? She's pretty great, too."

A laugh bubbled out of Elyssia before she could stop it, shaky and unexpected. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Kohana gently squeezed Elyssia's hand, her thumb brushing lightly against her skin, as if to say "look at me." She was not joking, not laughing. "You think this is easy for me? It's not. People turned me down so many times I've lost count, but I'd rather risk it than not say anything at all. I'm telling you this because I don't want you to feel you're alone, Em. I know what it's like to think no one sees you for who you are. But I see you. I've always seen you. And I'm not going anywhere."

Elyssia's fingers trembled slightly in Kohana's hand, and she tightened her grip to still them. Could she believe Kohana? Could she risk letting herself believe?

But then Kohana blinked, as if realising how much she had just revealed. Her grin returned, lighter now, but no less sincere. "You're right, though. I'm impossible. Truly one of a kind. And so are you. The two of us? Peas in a pod, you know what I'm saying?"

Elyssia's lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. Her heart warred with her mind, hope battling fear in a way that left her feeling raw and exposed. Could she risk opening her heart again? Was it worth risking this fragile belief again? The weight of it all pressed against her ribs, threatening to steal the air from her lungs. Her eyes dropped to the fire-lit table, and for a fleeting moment, she thought about the last time she had said those simple words. I do. Two syllables, meant to be a promise of forever. Meant to mean everything. Back then, they had slipped so easily from her lips, buoyed by hope and love and all the things she thought she could be.

And yet, here she was, years later, with nothing to show for them but the wreckage they left behind. Those words had not been enough. She had not been enough. The break-up with Claire had almost killed her—literally. There had been nights where the pain became so unbearable, so consuming, it had seemed easier to stop fighting altogether. Easier to just let the void swallow her whole. The only thing that had kept her tethered to the world, the only thing that had kept her from going through with it, was the thought of Maya and Ewan. Her kids. She had fought for them, clung to the faint notion they still needed her, even if she had been falling apart at the seams.

But now? Now there was no Claire, no family dinners, no warm smiles across the table. Maya and Ewan were so far away from her reach. If this—if Kohana—broke her, too, what would she have left to fight for? Could she survive losing everything—again?

Elyssia tightened her grip on the fur draped around her shoulders, as if it might shield her from the storm swirling in her chest. But then she felt it again—Kohana's steady, unwavering gaze. She looked up, meeting those sky-blue eyes that were so open, so present, and something inside her cracked, just a little. Maybe it was not about forever this time. Maybe it did not have to be.

"Yes… I do," she said, the words heavier than a vow. The same words that had once promised forever. They felt hollow and heavy all at once, like they had in the end with Claire. The last time she had said them, they had broken her. But this time? This time, they steadied her. Not because she was sure… but because she wanted to be.

Kohana's smile was slow, warm, and unrelenting. "Good," she said, nodding, her tail flicking behind her. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

Elyssia laughed despite herself, the sound shaky but real. Maybe it would not last. Maybe it would break her all over again. But as she sat there, bundled in furs and firelight, with Kohana's arm brushing against hers and the last taste of poutine still on her tongue, she thought it could be worth the risk.

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