Ignis’ First Firesday of Harvestfall, 1442, outside the city gates of Luminara.

  Vaelith felt a familiar twinge of nerves as she stood just outside the gates of Luminara, waiting for the rest of the party to arrive, hiding in the shade from the bright sun.

  The carmine-red moon visible in the sky despite the sun being near its zenith was not something Vaelith expected to see, despite her having the instinctive knowledge that this was just a reality of this world. The colour of the moon let everyone know the day of the week. Yesterday was Darksday. Tomorrow would be Thundersday, with its amethyst-purple moon.

  Zyra was standing next to her, her comically large tower shield strapped to her left arm. With her right arm casually draped over the handle of her enormous hammer burrowing into the ground, she leaned forward. The guards had simply watched as the two had left the city. With a mutual unspoken agreement to avoid conversation, the two Kindred dracans had positioned themselves a few meters from the city gates, the sounds of the city a muted hum in the background.

  The guards had stared, speechless, at the duo; a demonic-looking dracan standing beside an angelic-looking one, a bizarre and unsettling sight. Members of their species were rare in the Realms, but Luminara was the city with the highest concentration. As a people without a town to call their own, they shared this one with the homini, coexisting within its boundaries.

  Vaelith played with the button of her satchel, the rhythmic snap and unsnap a soothing counterpoint to her anxiety.

  The city’s low hum faded into the background, swallowed by the relentless pounding of waves against the sharp rocks. On any other day, Vaelith might have found the sound calming, but today it only sharpened the edge of her nerves. She was about to meet two new players—and she barely knew the one introducing them to begin with!

  What do I even know about Zyra?

  Well, she knew her player was a guy from California. She obviously played a tank—a guardian—and had picked a Kindred dracan avatar. The same species as Vaelith. That was the only reason they had met, after all.

  But other than those points? Vaelith had no clue what she had signed up to. She was totally in the dark on the rules behind party-based in this game. Her stomach fluttered nervously when she realised she had little idea what seasoned players would expect from a newbie like herself.

  But Zyra? She was confident it would all go well. She assured her they were already planning to run the same content, just with three members.

  “Don’t worry, dude. You can’t possibly make things any slower. Look, even if you have no idea what to do and completely messed up your spells, we’d still be on track.”

  Vaelith flinched at Zyra’s casual misgendering, but nodded slowly.

  “Could you… could you use ‘dudette’, maybe? If you will not call me by name?”

  Zyra looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

  “Really? You sure, dude?”

  Vaelith felt her cheeks flush, but she squinted at him.

  “… Sorry. Sure thing, ‘dudette’. Whatever you want.”

  Zyra smiled and shrugged, which looked surprisingly easy, despite the weight of her shield on her right arm.

  Just how absurdly strong is Zyra?

  “But, like I said. Don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine, with or without you.”

  Vaelith nervously chuckled.

  Oh yeah? Challenge accepted!

  She shook her head at the self-depreciating thought, then psyched herself.

  Just don’t mess up, Vae.

  That was when the natural back and forth of unfamiliar voices drifted toward them on the gentle breeze, drawing her attention. A deep sense of shared history and laughter resonated in the rhythm of their banter, vibrant and full of life.

  Vaelith turned to look at the newcomers, walking outside of the gates of the city, just as she and Zyra had done a few moments ago.

  The first was a diminutive Wind sylvani, barely four-foot-nine, her silver hair with blue highlights neatly arranged in a traditional Chinese bun held by polished hair sticks. Her eyes, the colour of a deep, calm ocean, contrasted with her pristine white robes, a clear sign of her status as a priestess. With sandals on her feet, she carried a sacred staff; atop which rested a magnificent, glowing sapphire orb.

  The other was a three foot one Pint burrovian mostly hiding inside a dark hooded cloak with silver lining. His eyes, when she caught sight of them, were a bright forest green, and his fur dusky grey with white spots. The hood compressed and hid his cute furry bunny ears away.

  Aww, why do you hide your cute bunny ears away? Are you ashamed of them?

  He carried a ruby-tipped crystal rod. She recognised it immediately as an elementalist’s fire-attuned spell focus.

  A message window abruptly appeared before Vaelith, startling her from her detailed examination.

  “Ryssa Brightglade has invited you to join her party. Accept/Decline.”

  Vaelith tapped on the Accept button.

  Zyra might be the tank, but it looks like Ryssa’s the one holding the reins in this group.

  That made her wonder about the dynamics behind this group of friends. Something told her they knew each other outside of the game, from the casual way Zyra had dropped their names earlier.

  The party interface displayed the name and level of all members of the party at the same time. Having reached the maximum capacity for a regular party triggered a system notification, the words “Party benefits applied” glowing brightly, along with a subtle increase in their character’s stats.

  Ryssa Brightglade, Priest 15.

  Zyra Talovren, Guardian 17.

  Orion Nightburrow, Elementalist 7.

  Vaelith Dawnscale, Mage 6.

  Zyra smiled at her two friends and gave them a nod in greeting. With a motion of her thumb, she pointed at Vaelith. “This is our fourth.”

  “Nice to meet you, Vaelith,” Ryssa said, her voice a melodious chime as she executed a perfect curtsy.

  “Oh! Heyo~,” Orion said, a warm, friendly hand wave accompanying his cheerful greeting.

  “Nice to meet you all. I’m Vaelith Dawnscale. Thank you for having me!”

  With a slight dip of her head and a respectful curtsy, Vaelith acknowledged the newcomers.

  Orion’s bright green eyes flickered with curiosity as he took in her appearance. Beneath the hood, his ears twitched suddenly. He nudged Ryssa with his elbow, grinning.

  “Oh. Ohhhh. Wait—holy shit. I know where I’ve seen you!”

  Vaelith tensed.

  Orion pointed at her, tail flicking with excitement. “You were in that video! With that priest chick—uh, Kaelyn something! The catgirl with the crazy movement! That’s you, right? Dancing in Luminara’s market?”

  Vaelith’s stomach twisted.

  What? Oh no, there’s a video of that? It was in public, anyone could have recorded. Heavens… What does he mean? How much did they see?

  “Man, Z! You should have said something! I thought she was just some random dracan you met and picked up in the food court, not, you know, the most famous dracan in the game. Someone pinch me! I can’t believe she’s there right in front of me!”

  Vaelith blinked, taken aback. Meanwhile, Orion grinned as he looked up at Zyra.

  What does he mean, most famous? Me? It can’t be. I’m just this low-level mage who hasn’t done anything…

  Ryssa exhaled sharply, shot Orion a look and gave him a light tap over the head. “Rein yourself, Orion. Don’t be rude.”

  The burrovian’s tail twitched as he playfully swatted her hands away. “Hey! Watch those hands, or I’ll gnaw your fingers off!” He raised both hands in mock surrender and continued, “I’m just saying, it’s kind of surreal. Seeing her move around, talk like a normal person…”

  Vaelith, meanwhile, felt a strange weight settle in her stomach. She felt her cheeks burn. The burrovian certainly seemed entirely unbothered talking openly not to her, but about her; as if she was not even there.

  Ryssa glared at him, arms folded. “Because she is a normal person, just another player. And she’s standing right here, by the way. Behave yourself, Orion. Can’t you see how embarrassed you’re making her?”

  “I like to believe that’s simply because of how cute I look!”

  “Sorry about the party’s gremlin. Please ignore him.”

  “How are you two so unphased? Her video had over ten million views last I checked! She’s a superstar!”

  Ryssa glared at Orion. “It doesn’t matter how many people saw her video, Orion. She’s here to play, just like the rest of us.”

  Vaelith shifted on her feet, unsure how to respond. Her mind raced.

  Please stop… How am I going to fix this…?

  Zyra, ever unbothered, gave a lazy shrug. “Yeah, yeah, she’s famous; we know. We’re here up to level up, not dance. Now let’s move. The camp’s this way.”

  Orion kept sneaking glances at Vaelith, like he was trying to reconcile the dracan in front of him with whatever version of her lived rent-free in his mind as Zyra lifted her heavy hammer.

  “You can keep fanboying on the way, dude. Little dudette; it’s just a short walk. Nothing will aggro here, so no need to watch yourself.”

  Oh, thank the light, we’re done talking about me…

  The guardian walked away, leading the group, heavy footsteps thudding against the ground, armour rattling. A rhythmic symphony accompanying her as she made her way forward. She clearly did nothing to hide her presence. Vaelith could totally understand why the guardian classes in games were called tanks when she looked at her; Slow, heavily armoured, loud. A force that could neither be halted nor pushed aside.

  As Vaelith followed, Ryssa kept pace and poked her on the upper arm. “Hey, before we start, do you know the Create Water ritual, Vaelith? Me and Orion burn through our mana pretty fast—in his case, literally—and you wouldn’t believe the price of water in Luminara.”

  Actually, I can absolutely believe the price of water—I just made twenty ferrums by filling a barrel. And apparently, that was a steal for them.

  The irony of the situation was not lost on Vaelith, who responded with a subtle, knowing smile. “Oh, of course. Yes. I know the ritual. Do you two have some empty containers?”

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  Orion and Ryssa did not hesitate. Both reached at their belts, unbuttoned their empty waterskins and nearly shoved them into her hands, as if had already agreed before she even answered.

  Zyra threw a glance over her shoulder without stopping walking. “Oh, and if you can, I’d take some loaves of bread, dudette.”

  Did they secretly invite me only for my ability to summon food and water, rather than my damage-dealing abilities?

  Apparently having caught Vaelith’s doubt on her facial expression, Ryssa reached out and politely placed one hand on her arm.

  “Cutting downtime is one of the most efficient way to increase experience points gain per hour when you’re gaming seriously. Having a mage like you around just makes everything go so much smoother.”

  Orion chanted a quick spell and let tiny fireworks come out of the tip of his rod.

  “Plus, two casters? I always say ‘Magic makes the world go round’!”

  Ryssa chuckled, but shook her head.

  “That’s a just line you stole from a game, you goof.”

  Vaelith felt a sudden recognition bloom in her chest, a warm feeling of familiarity. That was a line from a wizard who loved to tell puns.

  Knew I had recognised the saying! That’s not just from any game, it’s from a relic; Dad had insisted on playing it with me…

  Zyra kept her gaze straight ahead, but kept explaining things as she led the way to the camp.

  “Until Vaelith and Orion hit level ten, we’ll be stuck doing level five duties. But thankfully, they offer the level ten ones at the same camp, so we won’t have to move camp to go all the way to fifteen.”

  Ryssa sped past Vaelith a few steps, then turned to face her, a big smile on her face.

  “First time outside?”, she asked Vaelith.

  The little dracan mage nodded without looking up, her brow furrowed in concentration as she wrestled with the waterskins, the leather creaking slightly as she finally found a comfortable grip.

  “In that case, you’re going to get extra experience and money for each of the different duties we run at first—there’s a significant first time bonus for you. That should help you catch up to Orion’s level.”

  “Oh. That’s very nice of the designers. Works a bit like a rubber band system, then?”

  Ryssa tilted her head, thoughtful while backpedalling. “Well, it’s true that it might feel that way for you. But they also give us higher-level players a bonus for helping you get your first-time clears, as an incentive to extend help to new players. So it’s not so much a catch-up mechanic as it’s a way to make sure everybody gets perks from helping others out. You get your first-time clear bonus, while we get the mentor-rewards for assisting you.”

  Orion lifted his rod behind his neck, letting it rest across both shoulders. He craned his head backwards, stretching as he kept pace with the group.

  “Yeah, most veterans wouldn’t move a finger if there wasn’t something for them to earn from syncing down to help newbies.”

  What does he mean by syncing down? I guess there’s a level sync feature, where players are matched to the level of content they’re running.

  Zyra shot an angry look at Orion, then let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed her forehead with her right hand.

  “In many games, it’s common to see high-level players charge for carries like that. Since the games often reward new players with loot boxes or money rewards on top of experience points for their first-time clear, a lot of players have just taken to ask the new players to give up their monetary or item rewards. Their justification? The newbie’s already getting boatload of free experience out of the deal.”

  “Yeah, it’s almost like a protection racket, especially in games where there’s PvP and the high level player can just one-shot newbies and steal the loot boxes off their corpses after they get their rewards, if they don’t give it up willingly.”

  Vaelith started looking at the group a little more suspiciously now, but Ryssa seemed to have once again been able to read her facial expression.

  “Hey, you don’t have to worry about the three of us, or most of the players you’ll see in this game. The sense of aesthetics doesn’t attract that type of gamers, and folks from the old player base coming back for round two are friendlier than that. There’s no open Player vs Player combat here, and mercenary guilds were the exception, not the norm.”

  Zyra pointed ahead of them. “That’s the level five outpost.”

  They had walked downhill on a path that led away from Luminara, and now they were walking alongside a rocky beach. A small fortification overlooked the area from the top of a small hillock.

  “There’s a bunch of new-player quests teaching you about some important game mechanics. Once we break up, I suggest you check with all the locals and solo those. You should get some decent experience and money out of it, and some better gear.”

  Vaelith could see several homini guards in shining white and gold armour milling around, as well as multiple merchants, porters, and other non-combatants. She counted over thirty people but did not see many other adventurers.

  I’ll keep Zyra’s advice in mind and complete those quests later, then, when I have some time on my hands.

  “She might also get lucky and get some caster gear with the random rewards from the party duties. It’s not as good as dungeon or crafted gear, but it’s a step up from store-bought stuff. And certainly better than starter racial gear.”

  “Yeah, she totally might! After all, I got that sweet, fire-attuned rod yesterday when we ran them.”

  They kept moving towards the camp, Orion and Ryssa mostly filling the silence with banter. Vaelith doing her best to store and memorise all the important information, and to file away the rest. There was a lot to file away—Orion was a chatterbox.

  For a fleeting moment, doubt struck at her—the nervous glances Jason used to get when he stumbled through interactions, never quite fitting into the world around him. Was this any different? Did she really belong here, or was she just an outsider in a different form? But then... she caught the glimmer in Orion’s eyes, the excitement bubbling through his words. These people seemed genuine. She was welcome here, in this group.

  The party stopped in front of a man dressed in Luminara’s white and gold colours.

  “Guardian Talovren, priestess Brightglade, and elementalist Nightburrow. Welcome again to Tidebreaker Watch. I see a new face with you today.”

  The man who spoke to them was a foot taller than Zyra, the tallest of their group. He was wearing a polished kite shield on his left arm and a sheathed blade in a scabbard on his left hip. This was not a guardian like her, but a crusader, an advanced class, one that mixed holy magic like a priest with the melee combat style of the guardian class.

  He wore his black hair in a topknot and wore a metal mask to protect his eyes.

  “Valen—Vaelith, Vaelith—Valen. She’ll be working with us today.”

  She bowed, feeling dwarfed by the mountain of a man.

  “Vaelith Dawnscale, mage of Luminara. Sir?”

  He gave her a friendly smile.

  “Dutywarden Valen Steadwright. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, mage Dawnscale.”

  He turned his attention to Ryssa.

  “Here to clear more nuisances, then? Helping the city keep the beach safe today?”

  Ryssa smiled. “Give us a moment to get ready, but yes.”

  She turned to Vaelith.

  “Once we accept the quest, it’ll be time to fight. Now’s the best time to get those rituals going—you can’t use those during combat encounters.”

  You can’t? I don’t remember a hard rule against it. Sure, rituals aren’t fast, but I wonder if it’s just conventional wisdom to not use them during battle.

  “Right. On it.”

  Vaelith stepped back from the group, scanning the area for a table surface. The ground was too rocky to sit on comfortably, and there was no convenient bench or table in sight.

  She let out a sigh.

  Well, no need for a table when you can make one yourself.

  First she created a magic cushion about at the height of a barstool, and hopped on it. She had never tested doing this, but she was glad to discover she could simply create a floating surface anywhere. It was just as comfortable as it had been in the market earlier. She crossed her legs, adjusted her seating position, tail swaying to keep her balanced.

  As she floated atop her magic cushion, the surrounding air shimmered faintly, like heat rising from the ground. Tiny motes of dust swirled lazily beneath her, disturbed by the invisible force keeping her aloft. The effect was subtle, but undeniable—a reminder that magic in this world had a tangible presence.

  Orion was the first one to notice.

  “Huh, hey, Rys. Check it out. What is she sitting on?”

  Ryssa blinked, tilting her head as she squinted at Vaelith.

  “Hmm? Did she pull out a stool out of her satchel or something?”

  Orion let out a soft laugh, his bunny ears peeking from beneath his hood, twitching with curiosity.

  “No stool. Just... air. She’s floating.”

  Apparently, stools are fine, but invisible magic cushions are where they draw the line?

  His voice carried a mix of surprise and delight, the bright green of his eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun.

  Vaelith smiled to herself, feeling a small swell of pride at their reactions. She was not used to being noticed—at least, not in a good way.

  She heard her teammates taking a few steps closer, but she was already focusing on the next step of the process. Vaelith concentrated, picturing a table surface just ahead of her. She recalled all the details about the small, round table she had just eaten at. She imagined the size of it, and the amount of weight it could carry.

  Satisfied with her mental model, she used her telekinetic spell to form a second magic cushion in front of her, guided by those parameters in mind. She gently and experimentally placed one of the empty waterskins in the middle of it.

  Success!

  The waterskin simply laid suspended in front of her.

  Ryssa’s head tilted in puzzlement. She blinked again, leaning in closer to observe.

  “Is that telekinesis…? I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

  Zyra, usually so unflappable, stopped mid-stride. She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Okay, now that’s something you don’t see every day.”

  She shot Vaelith a quick glance, her expression hovering between amusement and genuine admiration. Ryssa was more reserved. Her eyes narrowed, not in judgment but in calculation, as if she were trying to measure the gap between Vaelith’s abilities and those of the higher-level mages.

  Orion pushed the hood of his cloak off his head and looked with his bright green eyes in what looked like amazement. His attentive and expressive burrovian’s ears clearly gave away how excited he was to see her at work. “Well, well, colour me impressed!”

  Vaelith was about to unbuckle her satchel to pull out her grimoire, but she had used the Create Water ritual often enough to recall it by memory by now.

  Or at least, I think I do?

  The alternative, creating and maintaining a third surface to hold the grimoire in front of her like a lectern? She was not confident she could pull three floating surfaces and a ritual all at once.

  Maybe later…

  So she simply started chanting the spell from memory. As the runes flickered into existence, the air around her felt heavier, thick with arcane energy. A soft hum reverberated through the space, like a tuning fork vibrating just out of earshot. Vaelith’s fingertips glowed faintly, tracing invisible patterns that left behind shimmering trails of light. The others stared, transfixed—not at her, but at the way magic bent to her will as easily as breathing.

  Orion’s eyes widened at the spectacle. “Wait, wait—how is she...?”

  The ritual circle finished, the blue magic lines turned gold in front of her, sooner than she expected. Moments later, the magic filled the waterskin, so Vaelith picked and handed Ryssa the waterskin, but instead of accepting it immediately, Ryssa just stood there, staring, her mouth ajar. “You didn’t even... use your grimoire?” she asked, her voice soft with awe. “How did you cast a ritual that quickly? Or without inks? Or while floating?”

  Vaelith smiled nervously, her cheeks warming under their gaze. “I... I just followed the instructions,” she said, her voice modest.

  Did I just do something special?

  But Vaelith focused back on the ritual. She had practiced it often enough that she could fill more than a single waterskin. So she placed the second one in the centre of the glowing magic circle. Moments later, she offered that one politely to Orion, who burst out laughing as he accepted it.

  “Wow! Two waterskins in a single cast?”

  But Vaelith was not done. A trace of the golden energy still lingered, so she fetched her empty glass from her satchel, and, with a flourish, capture the leftover magic, filling it to the brim.

  Grinning at that last impromptu manoeuvre, Vaelith took a sip of the water. As the last traces of magic faded into the air, Vaelith felt a sense of pride.

  Is it possible that I’m good at this?

  But there was something else, too. A flicker of unease. The same magic that set her apart from others, that gave her a sense of belonging, could also draw attention. And not all attention was welcome.

  Instructor Daren’s words echoed back in her mind. She felt herself shrinking.

  “You retreat into your shell, like you’re afraid of your own potential.”

  “You have more potential than you’re giving yourself credit for. Don’t be afraid to embrace it.”

  Her party members all looked at her, absolutely dumbfounded.

  Vaelith hesitantly asked, “Did I do anything wrong?”

  Ryssa was the first to snap out of it. She blinked a few times and chuckled nervously. “Oh no, nothing’s wrong. Just… wow. How?”

  Did I overdo it?

  Vaelith started to blush and feel very self-conscious.

  “What do you mean ‘how’..? That was nothing special….”

  Zyra laughed.

  Okay, I’m sure I overdid it now…

  “Dudette, she’s saying you’re very special.”

  Ryssa clutched her staff tighter, as if bracing herself for the impossibility she had just witnessed. “Ritual casting normally takes minutes... How did you...?” Her voice trailed off, unable to form the words as she tried to reconcile Vaelith’s abilities with everything she knew of the class.

  Vaelith methodically went over the simple steps, repeating the words from her training: “Chant the words. Visualise the circle. Trace the pattern. Let my light guide you. Focus on the result.”

  I’m fairly sure the spells in my grimoire are the same ones everyone else learns at the mage academy? Anyone should be able to do what I just did.

  Admittedly, she did that while floating on an invisible force construct. But that was simply a surface created out of telekinetic force, which was done by throttling the output and limiting the area of a telekinetic spell. And a simple spell—one every mage had access to!

  That’s it! Maybe other mages never found the old lamp maker? They wouldn’t have learned how to repurpose their combat spells for non-combat use?

  Vaelith wondered how long that secret would last, but for now, she supposed she was special. Someone else was bound to run into the old man in the darkened alley at night. And agree to help him.

  Orion’s bunny ears shot straight up as he leaned forward, almost hopping toward Vaelith. His eyes glimmered with excitement, a grin stretching across his face. “That is so cool! I can barely get my fire spells to spark right on the first try, and here you are floating around and ritual casting like you’ve done that all your life!”

  Vaelith blinked, feeling the weight of their stares, unsure of why they were so impressed. “Really, there’s no special trick,” she said, her voice a murmur.

  But professor Daren’s voice came back once more. “You’re an excellent student. Brilliant, really.”

  Her cheeks burning under their gaze.

  Was my magic any different from others? Isn’t this how everyone else cast their spells?

  Memorising spells—which were simply geometric forms and series of words—felt natural to her, no different from the way she effortlessly recalled lesson plans or guided her students through complex assignments in her real life. This was child’s play compared to managing a classroom full of spoiled kids back at Newport Highschool.

  Ryssa shook her head. “Even the level thirty mages I saw didn’t cast that quickly.” She stared at Vaelith, her brows furrowed in disbelief. “Where did you learn magic?”

  Same place as everyone else…?

  Despite the awkwardness of being the centre of attention, a small flicker of pride lit up in Vaelith’s chest. Maybe... maybe she was special.

  I’m not just blending into the background—everyone’s looking at me. Hopefully, for the right reasons?

  The wind picked up slightly, causing the grass to sway around them, and Vaelith felt... good. Fantastic.

  They see me. It’s just like Kaelyn said. I’m not just a random person, or just the girl who looks like Luxoria. They see someone who matters.

  Despite being still uncomfortable with all the attention, Vaelith felt a soft smile forming on her lips. She might not understand why or how her magic was different, but she was realising something important.

  They see me. And maybe... I’m starting to see myself too.