For what felt like the next four hours, Ellehish and I sat by the lake and talked. We bounced from one topic to another. I told her about Earth, about cities with towers of glass. About roads full of metal carriages that moved without horses. About tiny glowing rectangles people carried everywhere like pocket-sized scrying mirrors. About how most people in my old world knew stories through books, movies, or games.
"So," Ellehish said slowly, sitting cross-legged in the silver grass with her chin resting on one hand, "you are telling me that in your world, this world was known as entertainment?"
"Kind of."
Her eyes narrowed and I raised both hands. "Not all of it. Not like this. The version I knew was smaller. Towns had maybe thirty people and somehow called themselves cities. You could jog across a province in an afternoon if you ignored how stupid that sounded. This is different."
Ellehish looked across the lake. The water was smooth enough to steal the stars out of the sky and hide them under its surface. "So my people," she said quietly, "our fall, our wars, our dead… were game lore?"
"Some of it," I admitted. "Mostly scraps, Legends, Broken history, Stuff written by people who either hated elves, misunderstood elves, or were guessing."
Her mouth twitched. "That," she said, "sounds painfully believable."
"Yeah, history in any world gets messy once people start writing it down. Everyone puts their own spin on it." The wolf lay near the tree line, every now and then, one of her ears twitched toward us. Ellehish followed my gaze. "I have been curious about her," she said, nodding toward the forest. "The wolf in our mindscape."
"Our mindscape," I repeated. "Is still a weird thing to wrap my mind around."
"It is accurate."
"Doesn't make it less weird." The wolf opened one gold eye, stared at me, then closed it again. Ellehish's lips curved faintly. "Bloodline powers often take shape here. They are part of what makes you. What makes us. So it is not strange that your werewolf blood has a form."
"Sure. Giant judgmental snow wolf. Totally normal."
"She is not judging you."
The wolf huffed and I pointed. "She is absolutely judging me."
"Okay, she may be."
"Thank you." Ellehish's smile softened, but the look in her eyes turned thoughtful. "If the wolf is your blood, and I am your past, then what are you?"
That shut me up, what was I? Riley, obviously. But also Ellehish. I looked across the lake. The opposite shore sat beneath the moonlight, silver grass waving without wind. I had tried walking there before, only for the woods to loop me back. I honestly didn't have a answer to that question so I'd do what I always did when I didn't, I'd do something else.
Ellehish's eyes followed me. "What are you doing?"
"Testing something." The wolf lifted her head now, ears forward. I stared at the other side of the lake and took a breath. Just me, a lake, and a bad idea. Red vapor curled off my skin. Ellehish stood so fast the grass bent around her ankles. "Riley—"
The world blinked. For one glorious second, I thought I had done it. Then gravity remembered I existed and I hit the lake like someone had thrown a sack of flour off a roof. The water swallowed me whole. For a breath, all I knew was bubbles, silver light, and the deep, offended silence of a magical lake that had not asked to be used as a landing pad. I kicked upward, broke the surface, and came up coughing hard.
Laughter rang across the water, Ellehish laughed like a dam had finally cracked. I wiped water out of my eyes and glared at her through dripping white hair. "I'm glad my suffering entertains you." She had one hand pressed to her stomach, the other covering her mouth, and it did absolutely nothing to hide the sound. "You vanished so dramatically," she wheezed. "I thought something terrible had happened."
"Something terrible did happen. I got baptized by my stupidity."
That only made her laugh harder. Even the wolf made a low rumbling sound that was suspiciously close to amusement. I started swimming toward the bank, muttering under my breath. The water felt strange, Refreshing, yes. It had no weeds, no mud stink, no fish brushing against my legs. Just cold, clean depth.
Ellehish crouched at the edge and held out a hand, still smiling. "Come on, little comet."
I froze as I looked at her and she blinked, I smiled. Her expression changed instantly. "Do not." she tried to pull her hand away but I grabbed her wrist. "Riley."
"Too late." I pulled and She made one sharp, offended sound before falling face-first into the lake beside me. The splash was beautiful, Art, honestly. She surfaced a moment later, soaked hair plastered to her face, looking so betrayed that I nearly swallowed lake water laughing.
"You are impossible," she sputtered.
"Well I couldn't be the only one wet."
"I noticed."
"Good. Communication is important for a health relationship."
She splashed me and I splashed her back. For a while, that was all we were. Just two idiots in a lake. Eventually the splashing slowed. We drifted closer, Ellehish's hand found mine under the water, fingers cool as our hand interlocked, I squeezed gently. The wolf watched from the shore, quiet now.
Ellehish looked at me, and the laughter faded from her face. "What?" I asked. Her thumb brushed over my knuckles. "You are almost out of time." My stomach sank a little. "Already?"
"This place bends time, but it does not stop it." Her voice softened. "You need to wake."
I sighed. "I was starting to enjoy being irresponsible."
"You are always irresponsible."
"Yeah, but here I had scenery." She rolled her eyes, but there was sadness under it. She tried to hide it. Poor thing she had not yet learned the sacred Riley art of weaponized nonsense. I leaned closer until our foreheads touched. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then, because I am me and self-control is a rumor, I kissed her.
Just a quick press of my mouth to hers. Just enough to make her freeze and when I pulled back, her eyes were wide, and color had climbed beautifully into her pale cheeks. I grinned. "Better get used to it, Ive always wanted to kiss myself."
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again as the world rang. It was like an alarm went off inside my bones. The lake, the wolf, the silver grass, Ellehish's flustered face, all of it pulled away at once. I woke with a sharp breath. For a second, I stared up at the low ceiling of our room at the Bear's Rest and wondered why the sky had turned into wood.
Morning light slipped through little gaps in the wall, thin gold beams cutting across the room. Dust drifted through them lazily. The bunk above me creaked as the tavern settled around us. Arnovia was gone. I pushed myself upright, rubbing sleep from my eyes. My hair fell over one shoulder in a white mess, and my skin looked almost ghostly in the morning light.
A translucent panel blinked to life in front of my face.
[LEVEL UP]
"Oh, now you show up," I muttered.
The screen shifted. I stared at both options for a long second.
[Skyrim]
[Oblivion]
My first instinct was to pick Oblivion but for some reason something beyond my understanding was begging me on its knees crying to pick Skyrim instead. I guess the goddess figured this would happen and allowed to pick. So I clicked on Skyrim instead.
The Oblivion option faded away like it had never been there. The panel shimmered, then broke apart into smaller pieces of light before reforming into something cleaner. Simple and I felt a being thanking me for some odd reason. Weird.
[Growth Rule Set Confirmed: Skyrim]
[Level 2 Reached]
[Choose Attribute Increase]
[Health]
[Magicka]
[Stamina]
So, naturally, I chose Magicka.
[Magicka Increased]
[Perk Point Acquired: 1]
The next screen opened into a constellation of skill trees. Actual stars of pale blue light spread before me, each branch marked with symbols. A blade. A bow. A shield. A hand wreathed in fire. An eye half-hidden in shadow. A wolf's head sat off to the side, dimmer than the rest.
I reached toward Destruction first; a single perk glowed at the bottom.
[Novice Destruction]
Destruction spells cost less Magicka. "Basic, useful, boring." I tapped it anyway. "Which means I need it." The star lit up, and a faint warmth pulsed through my fingers. Another panel unfolded.
Name: Ellehish [Riley] Sinzras
Level: 2
Body Age: 16 [actually spiritual age 6,900+]
Soul Age: 19
Race: Snow Elf
Health: 100 / 100
Magicka: 170 / 410
Stamina: 130 / 130
Attribute Raised: Magicka
Perk Points: 0
Current Perk: Novice Destruction
Skills of Note:
Destruction: 13
Illusion: 22
Spear: 15 [falls under two handed sub branch]
Unarmed: 7
Sneak: 12
Speech: 12
Active Spell Unlocked:
Frostbite
Bloodline:
True Werewolf Mother
Current Form: Teen Wolf
Passive Bonuses:
Strength
Speed
Agility
Hearing
Supernatural Senses
Blood Bonded / Kin:
Allows me to sense those who share my blood within two miles.
Elder Blood:
Teleport Mastery: 1
Planes walking Mastery: 0
Abilities:
Cleaning Touch:
Converts or removes unwanted evolutionary traits from a willing being.
Cooldown: One month.
Taboo Collector:
Stores collected body or bloodline traits for later cleansing and use.
Passive Perks:
Frost Resistance: 25%
Frost Empowerment: 15%
Snow Elf: +50 Magicka
Elder Blood: +50 Magicka
Storage: Unlocked
Store: Locked
Requirement: Gold
"Of course it wants money. Like it could even use it." I dismissed the panel with a thought and finally became aware of the second problem of the morning. My clothes were gone. I looked down at myself, then around the room, then down at myself again. The morning light made my skin look even paler than usual.
The Fire Keeper clothes were nowhere in sight. Thankfully the mask was set on a chair near the wall sat on top of faded green dress with a shorter blue one folded over it. I opened my mouth and closed it. "Okay, if someone stole from the magical outfit Rhea gave me, I'm going to kill them." I placed the Mask on my face and watched as my skin gained normal human color. While I was doing that, I could hear small footsteps moved outside the room.
There was the careful slosh of water in a bucket. The footsteps stopped just beyond the door. Whoever it was, they were trying very hard not to spill anything and failing in a tragic way. I moved to the door and cracked it open. Arnovia stood in the hall, both hands wrapped around a wooden bucket. Steam curled from the water inside. A rag rested over her shoulder, and a thin trail of water followed behind her.
She looked focused. Painfully focused. I stepped back before she noticed me staring, a light knock came a second later.
"Ellehish? Are you awake? I am coming in." The door opened just enough for her to squeeze through sideways with the bucket. She nudged it shut behind her with her foot, then set the bucket down with a breath of relief.
When she looked up and saw me standing there bare as the day Rhea threw me into the ocean, she did not scream. Didnt blush and didnt make a face, she just looked me over once and said, "You sleep weirdly."
I blinked. "That is your good morning?"
"It is true." She pointed toward the bed. "You twisted the blanket around yourself like you were fighting it."
"I might have been. You don't know my life."
"I know your blanket lost." I stared at her and she stared back. Then I snorted. "Fair." Arnovia nodded toward the chair. "Your clothes were taken to the washing woman; I made sure no one came in while you slept. They smelled like salt, river mud, smoke, and sweat."
"She said they should be ready tonight if the weather holds." Arnovia crouched by the bucket and pulled the rag from her shoulder. "Those were left for you. The green one first. The blue one over it."
I looked at the dresses again. They were old, but clean. Arnovia separated the rag into two pieces. "This one is for washing. This one is for wearing." I looked at the second cloth then at her. "I am almost afraid to ask."
"It's not hard." She tilted her head slightly. "Do you need help washing or should I wait outside?" I glanced toward the bucket. Warm water. After everything I had been through, that might as well have been treasure.
"My back," I said. "I cannot reach it right." Arnovia nodded like this was normal and moved behind me with the practical calm of someone who had lived in crowded places where privacy was a luxury and bodies were just bodies. Back on Earth, locker rooms and gyms had already beaten most of the panic out of me. This was different, sure, because this was not the body I had grown up with. It was smaller and paler.
But still a body was a body. The warm rag moved across my shoulders, and I nearly melted through the floor. "Oh, that is unfairly good." She scrubbed harder between my shoulder blades. The washing only took a few minutes, but by the end I felt more like a person, I dried off with the cleanest part of the cloth while Arnovia took the second piece and folded it with deadly seriousness.
I watched her work. She wrapped it around my hips, pulled the ends through, folded, tucked, and tied the sides tight enough that it would stay in place. I looked down, God I was already missing my underwear from home. The peach-and-cream striped ones especially. They had been soft and cute.
"You are making a face," Arnovia said.
"I miss elastic."
"I do not know what that is."
"A miracle." She gave me a doubtful look. "Also proper underwear."
"This is underwear."
"That is where you are wrong."
She stared at me for a moment, then shook her head as I grabbed the green dress and tried to put it on like a shirt. Arnovia watched for exactly three seconds before sighing. "Roll it first."
"I knew that."
"Im sure you did." She took the dress, rolled the sides up toward the neck opening, and handed it back. This time I slid it over my head properly. The fabric dropped down over me in a soft rush, brushing my legs. It smelled faintly of soap, smoke, and old wood.
The blue overdress came next. Arnovia moved behind me again and started working the laces at my waist. She pulled hard and my ribs protested. "Air," I said struggling to breath, She loosened it. "Better?"
"Better" Once she finished, I stepped toward a small piece of polished metal hanging near the wall. It was not a proper mirror, but it was reflective enough. The girl looking back at me was strange. Arnovia sat on the edge of the bed, drawing one knee up. Her own clothes were different from yesterday. Her hair had been trimmed too, short and messy around her face. It made her look like some lost pageboy.
Cute, in a scrappy way. "You should speak to Master Gersg," she said. "He wanted to know what chores you could do."
"I can do many chores badly. Plus I need to ask for men's clothes as I'm not a fan of dresses" I started toward the door, then stopped with my hand on the latch. "How are you doing?"
She blinked at me as I turned back. "After everything. The ship, the running, the almost dying, the not getting sold off." Her expression went still as she thought it over. "I am alive," she said.
"That is not the same thing." I said while giving her a dead pan stare.
"No." She looked down at her hands. "But it is better than the other choices." I walked back over and rested my hand on her head before I could overthink it. Her hair was soft and uneven under my palm. She froze then slowly looked up at me. "That is a very depressing answer," I said. "Correct, but sad."
"You are petting me."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Because you looked like you needed it." Her mouth twitched, almost a smile. "You are strange."
"I have been told." She didnt move away and after a moment, she said, "You still have to explain the claws. And your eyes changing color and skin color."
"Eventually."
"That is not an answer."
"It is a delay, you will learn if I come to trust you shorty." Her eyebrows pulled together. I lifted my hand from her head and walked to the door. "For now, I go earn my keep." I waved once and slipped into the hall. The Bear's Rest was quieter in the morning. Somewhere below, wood scraped against wood. A man coughed. Someone laughed softly, then hushed themselves.
The hallway was dim, but I could see fine. My hearing caught small things too. A broom dragging across floorboards. Water dripping into a basin. The slow settling breath of someone still asleep behind one of the doors.
Werewolf senses were useful. I passed five doors before the smell hit me. Stew. My stomach folded in on itself like it was trying to escape my body and reach the kitchen first. I followed the scent down the hall and through a doorway into a warm room filled with steam and the heavy comfort of cooking food. A pot hung over the hearth, bubbling quietly.
A woman stood with her back to me, stirring the pot. She wasn't human, that much was obvious even from behind. Her brown hair was braided neatly down to her hips, and two antler-like horns rose from her head, curving upward.
She did not turn around. "Do not stand in the doorway like a lost ghost," she said. "Grab a bowl." I looked around quickly, found a stack of wooden bowls, and took one.
Her hand lifted without her looking back. I paused for half a second before realizing she wanted the bowl. I stepped closer and placed it in her open palm. She filled it with stew and handed it back over her shoulder with such perfect aim that I had to respect it. "There is bread on the table," she said. "Cheese as well. Goat milk in the jug."