The numbing cold of the morning greeted me sending a shiver through my legs as I stirred awake. Outside, the sound of chirping birds filled the crisp air as rays of early morning light seeped through the cracks in the curtains, casting faint lines on the blanket.

I sat up in bed, stretching and rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes. Feeling numb, my gaze wandered around the room. My eyes passed over the empty tray resting on the nightstand, next to the strange lamp that resembled the light posts I’d seen the night before. It wasn’t connected to any power source, save for the blue gem that floated within a long glass tube, suspended in midair. My attention drifted to the shoes I had haphazardly kicked off onto the floor.

“So,” I muttered under my breath, the words sinking into the heavy silence of the room, “it wasn’t a dream.”

For what felt like the dozenth time, I hoped that yesterday had been nothing more than a vivid dream, perhaps even a hallucination so real it defied all logic and reason. Maybe I’d hit my head, or gone crazy, imagining everything I’d seen and done. But I knew now there was no waking up from this because I already was awake.

A wave of isolation swept over me, heavier than anything I’d ever felt before. Far from the time my parents divorced when I was younger. They only cared about what they could take and keep from each other, leaving me an afterthought. The fallout forced me to move away from my friends and the only home I’d ever known, at the time.

The thought that I might never see my family or friends again stung as if I were stabbed in the heart and the wound refused to heal. I didn’t even know what had happened to my body, was it… Was I even still alive? And there’s Mandy... The thought of her name making the ache in my chest deeper. She might be the one to find my body, hell if there isn’t one, she might think I just got up and left her. We’d planned a trip together for this weekend, something we’d been looking forward to for months.

My vision blurred as a lump formed in my throat, the rim of my eyes heating up as the wave of emotions crashed over me. "Fuck," I muttered under my breath, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears. It didn’t work, they came anyway, sliding silently down my cheeks.

Even though my body wasn’t the right sex, every little reminder grated on me. The infuriating fabric of the robes rubbing against my sensitive chest had made sleeping an annoying challenge, feeling discomfort no matter how I tossed and turned which shouldn't have been as distracting as it was. Hell, even if I do find a way back, would I still be stuck in this body? Would anyone even recognize me?

I closed my eyes and buried my face in the crook of my elbow as my shoulders trembled. Silent sobs wracked my chest as I mourned the life I’d been abruptly and unfairly ripped away from. It wasn’t just about being here, it was about not knowing if I could ever go back, or if anything I’d left behind would even still be there waiting for me.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, tears falling freely. It had been less than a day since I arrived and I already felt so utterly defeated and alone.

Eventually, I managed to gather myself, knowing I couldn’t sit here all day. I forced the emotions down as best I could and I tried to think about what to do next. There have to be others, right? I thought. There were over five hundred thousand people who played Zenith Rising on the global server, I couldn’t possibly be the only one trapped inside their character’s body like this.

The thought clung to me like a barbed hook, each second sinking its sharp edges deeper into my mind. If there are others, maybe we can figure out what happened to us and maybe even find a way back.

“But if there aren’t… if I’m the only one… what then?” I muttered.

The question sat heavy in my chest, pressing down like a weight I couldn't shake. A sharp smack echoed through the room, my cheeks stinging painfully in the cold air, cutting through the heavy clouds lingering over me.

"No, if there’s a way here, there has to be a way back. If not I’ll fucking make one." I growled, my resolve firming, fully knowing how ridiculous it sounded, but I didn’t care.

"Where do I even start?" I murmured, my thoughts swirling as I walked to the window and pulled the curtains open. The street below was slowly stirring to life, the early morning light casting long shadows over cobblestones. Kalzah Runners lumbered down the open thoroughfare, their powerful strides easily able to handle the carts full of goods. Shopkeepers rolled up awnings, vendors set up their stalls, and the faint hum of activity began to fill the air below.

I looked up and out over the city, and froze, my breath catching in my throat.

"An airship," I whispered, staring in awe as a massive vessel ascended into the sky across the city. It wasn’t like those massive getaway cruise ships you’d see in advertisement commercials. Its design was like a mix of a colonial-era barge and a speedboat more than a modern ship. The hull was sleek, its massive sails unfurling into wings on its starboard and port quarters, like outstretched elephant ears. Smaller ships, about eight of them, ascended alongside it. They were sleeker and faster, their streamlined designs were like falcons escorting a larger creature.

The spectacle honestly left me breathless. I couldn’t help but muse about the science behind it. Of course, the easy answer would be thaumaturgy, and I probably wouldn’t understand a quarter of how it functioned, but I was genuinely curious.

The ships soon disappeared beyond my line of sight. I tried to push the window open further to keep watching, but it only budged partway, stopped by a cord. Frustrated, I sighed and leaned against the sill instead, letting the crisp morning air wash over me. It was chilly but refreshing, the scent of pine carried on the breeze.

"This world’s technology is very different from the game’s, I wonder what else is different," I muttered, still staring at the spot where the airship had disappeared.

I locked the door behind me, carefully balancing the tray in my hands to keep the plates from toppling over. "There's so much to consider," I muttered with a sigh, making my way toward the stairs.

I didn’t have the faintest idea what to do next. It wasn’t like I had a quest menu to guide me, pointing out objectives and destinations. Hell, even navigating this city was confusing. The back alleys alone were a maze, and I was lucky to have found my way to the main road so quickly. If this world were exactly like the game, I wouldn’t have any trouble getting around. But it’s not. There are similarities, sure, at least from what I’ve seen so far, but that’s all surface-level. I need to talk to someone, figure out how this world really works... and learn more about thaumaturgy. I thought, with a faint flush of excitement that lessened the gloom in my heart.

It seemed like the people in this city had some sort of prejudice against demihumans so I probably shouldn’t go around asking random people questions. But the barkeep from last night seemed alright, I should start with him.

As I descended the stairs a barking laugh startled me enough that I missed a step. I stumbled, nearly sending the plates on the tray flying as I scrambled to regain my balance.

Heat rushed to my face as straightened myself quickly, and I hurriedly glanced around the room, catching more than a few eyes flicking my way because of the commotion. Pushing my embarrassment aside, my gaze swept over the tavern looking for the large man from last night. Compared to the rowdy atmosphere of yesterday, this morning's crowd was more subdued. Only a handful of people occupied the tables scattered around the room, most of them looking like they were nursing hangovers. Some sipped from mugs, while others quietly picked at their plates.

“Well now, so this is the knife-ear Phen mentioned,” a husky voice mused from the side.

I tore my gaze from the room, following the voice, and was startled to find a caramel-skinned tree stump of a woman who was short, wide, and impossibly stout. She perched on a stool, her legs crossed beneath her, chin resting lazily on one hand. Hazel eyes, almost golden, twinkled with amusement as she studied me, while I stared back slack-jawed.

Her physique put the best bodybuilder I’d ever seen to shame. Her arms looked like they were made of tempered steel wire, corded with taut muscle that bulged even as she casually reached for a handful of nuts from a bowl on the bar.

Yet, as striking as she was, there was something about her that felt… off.

It wasn’t her obvious rough demeanor or her loud brash attitude. No, it was something deeper, something almost imperceptible. It prickled at the edges of my mind, keeping me on edge despite her relaxed posture. There was a tension in the air around her, something dangerous. It wasn’t the feeling of being directly threatened, but more like standing in a room with a loaded gun lying casually on the table, one she could pick up and fire in a heartbeat if she wanted.

Then it hit me. The buzzing I’d felt since experiencing that ungodly pain in my stomach last night was alive around her, almost distinct and tangible. It wasn’t like standing in the heat on a hot summer day, it was focused and intense. She was a wild bonfire, roaring and untamed, her presence like a beacon of danger.

“Melda, girl,” the woman boomed, her voice cheery enough to fill the quiet tavern. “You see this one? Recognizes the beauty of muscles!” She yelled with a loud slap on the counter, I half expected the wood to shatter under the force. “A bit dreary though.” She said, staring at me.

I whipped around, feeling a jab in the small of my back that sent a jolt through me. Realizing I had backed into a table, I quickly straightened and looked back at the woman. Her grin widened as she chuckled, clearly amused, while tucking a loose, thick lock of her dark red hair behind her ear.

"Come now, lass, I ain't gonna hurt you," she said, her golden eyes locked onto mine. "You're gonna drop that tray, come put it down," she added, patting the counter.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice tinged with unease as I hesitantly approached, unsure how to handle this person. Something in me warned against pissing her off.

"Gwingiel, lass," she said easily, her tone almost playful. "And you?"

I hesitated, which name should I give her? My real name? No, that would sound odd coming from this body.

"Relyen," I finally replied, the name rolling off my tongue awkwardly as I gave her my character's name.

"Relyen," she repeated, her brows knitting together in a quizzical expression. "Ain't heard that one before, especially from a dark elf lass." She paused before adding, "But mine ain't so common either!" she said with a chuckle.

"Gwin, you best not be scaring my patrons off again," said a tall woman in a waist-high brown apron, stepping around a corner from a room behind the bar. She shot Gwingiel a stern look before her eyes flicked to me. "And you, eating in rooms ain’t allowed."

She raised a hand, stalling my apology as I opened my mouth to speak. "It's alright. I've heard from my father," she added quickly. "Just be sure to come down to the tavern after ordering food. I ain’t got time for people who don't bother to come down and eat what I've prepared, you hear?" She gave me the same stern look she'd given Gwingiel.

"Yes, I'll be sure to do that," I replied with a nod, setting the tray on the counter.

"You ate all of it, tell me, Relen—" she began.

"Relyen," Gwingiel interjected.

"Relyen," the woman corrected, tossing her chestnut-colored hair behind her shoulder. "How was the food?" She asked, her brown eyes glimmering with curiosity.

I hesitated, glancing between the two women before responding. "The food was... interesting," I said carefully. "The fish was, um, flavorful, though maybe a bit heavily seasoned. The pickled vegetables, however, were quite good, with a tangy, slightly sour, and savory flavor."

The tall woman studied me, her expression unreadable for a moment, before nodding briskly. "You’re not the first to find the fish here a bit ambitious," Gwingiel said, with another of her booming laughs that seemed to fill every corner of the tavern. “But you are the first to tell her exactly why it is bad!” She continued with another bark, slapping the counter again as Melda gave her a disapproving side-eye.

“Gwin, I distinctly remember telling you not to make a ruckus in the tavern in the mornings,” a gruff voice called, cutting through the dwarf woman's amusement.

I turned toward the sound to see the old man from yesterday leaning heavily against the doorframe behind the bar. He cared little for his bed hair as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and scowled faintly at Gwingiel.

“Well, Phennic, I might be inclined to listen if you didn’t have such great company here,” Gwingiel replied, her tone teasing as she tilted her chin toward Melda. She added a mischievous wink in my direction. Was she messing with me?

Phennic’s gaze shifted to me, and frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly, as though he were trying to search for something.

“Something the matter?” I asked, shifting uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze. Standing so close to Gwingiel only heightened my unease. She came off as playful, but my skin prickled, a sensation like being stung by invisible needles. It felt hostile.

“Oy, Phen, I know the lass is pretty, but don’t you think you’re a bit too old? Right, Melda girl?” Gwingiel teased with a chuckle as she leaned on the counter, nudging the other woman.

Melda didn’t look up as she busied herself with a pen and notebook. “Ignore these two, Relyen,” she said calmly. “Gwin loves to stir up trouble, and my father only has eyes for my mother.”

Gwingiel laughed, not denying the accusation. Without missing a beat, Medla added, “By the way, you can return the key at the end of the day unless you plan to stay another night. The cost is the same.”

“Okay, thanks for the information. Nice meeting you,” I said quickly, nodding toward the others while taking a step back. My voice was steady, but my nerves were anything but. The longer I stood near Gwingiel, the more the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I need to get the hell out of here. I’ll take my chances and ask somewhere else for information.

“Hold on there, Relyen, was it?” The old man, Phennic, suddenly called. I stopped mid-step. My nerves were fraying, as if every second painfully dragged on. Reluctantly, I turned back, forcing a light smile.

Before I could respond, Phennic’s voice sharpened, his eyes flicking toward Gwingiel. “Gwin, stop relaxing your presence. I told you not to do that here.”

Gwingiel rolled her eyes, dismissing him with a scoff. “Oh, relax old man. I’m just teaching—" Her sentence cut off with a startled yelp as she tumbled backward off her stool, landing with a crash on the hardwood floor.

At the same time, my legs buckled beneath me, suddenly feeling like jelly. I hit the ground hard. My heart raced, my body refusing to obey me as I tried to move. Looking up at Phennic, I froze.

This wasn’t just some fit old man, he was a monster. It was as if I were staring up at a lion as it stood above me, its teeth bare and ready for the kill. I wanted to run as far and as fast as I could, but I was trapped, every fiber of my being terrified.

If Gwingiel’s earlier demeanor had been like a loaded gun on the table, subtly implying the threat of being used, then Phennic’s was the gun pointed directly at my head, hammer cocked.

“Galador’s beard, you win! Stop it already!” Gwingiel shouted, crawling onto her knees as she struggled to stand. Her voice was strong but carried a hint of unease that wasn’t lost on me. The suffocating pressure vanished in an instant, as though the gun had been tossed out the window and out of reach. But I knew that was a lie. The threat still lingered like a shadow in the corner of my mind, as I felt how the tavern still buzzed energetically with whatever he had done.

To think I wanted to bother this monster with questions.

“Oy, that was unfair, old man!” Gwingiel growled, finally managing to get upright. She wobbled slightly before steadying herself and glared at Phennic. “And look at what you’ve done to the lass!” She gestured toward me with an exasperated wave, her voice dripping with irritation. “She’s trembling like a newborn babe!”

I still sat on the floor, my hands planted firmly to steady myself, my body shaking uncontrollably. Although I didn’t feel that overwhelming sense of danger pressing down on me anymore, its aftershocks left me cold and clammy, my breath shallow as I tried to piece myself together. What the hell did he just do to me?

Phennic turned his gaze toward me, his expression oddly softening with what looked like genuine concern that was hard to trust. “Ah, I might have overdone it,” he said, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish smile that felt absurdly out of place.

Gwingiel offered me her hand, and I hesitated before taking it. In one swift motion, she yanked me to my feet with such force that I nearly stumbled into her. She caught me with ease, casually controlling her strength, and steadied me until I regained my balance.

“Apologies, Relyen,” Phennic said, gesturing toward Gwingiel with a nod of his head. “I had to teach this idiot a lesson.”

“Your rule’s kinker shit if it only applies to me,” Gwingiel snapped, rolling her eyes as she plopped back onto her stool with an audible huff. She jabbed a thumb in my direction, “The lass has been blasting her presence since she came down the stairs, old man.”

My brows furrowed as I frowned, the accusation catching me completely off guard in my stupor. “I what?” I stammered, deeply confused.

“This is a Hunter’s Tavern,” Melda said, finally looking up from her scribbling with a disapproving frown. “Any Awakened must restrain their presence to disturb the other patrons during their stay. You’ll need to find other accommodations if you can’t manage that,” she added firmly.

"That’s fair," I replied, my brows knitting in confusion, but what the hell is an Awakened?

I opened my mouth to ask, but Phennic cut me off before I could speak. “Hold your Kalzah runners, you two,” he said, stepping up to the bar. “She didn’t know about the rule because I didn’t tell her.”

“So I’m the only one who doesn’t get to relax, eh?” Gwingiel retorted, popping a nut into her mouth and chewing lazily.

“She awakened last night,” Phennic explained with a weary sigh, giving Gwingiel a pointed look who immediately began leaking that same uncomfortable feeling again. This time, though, it felt far less threatening, at least compared to what I’d experienced from Phennic. “She’s not even aware of it, Gwin. She’s untrained, I think.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

I looked between them, my confusion mounting. “What are you talking about? What’s a presence?” I asked, trying to make sense of their cryptic exchange.

“Well, that makes more sense now that I think about it,” Gwingiel grumbled with a huff, ignoring me as she agilely hopped over the bar “But, seriously, these heaven-kissed elves and their goddamn natural awakening bullshit.” She said disappearing into the room behind the bar where a loud thunk sounded.

“I told you to stop drinking the mead straight from the barrels!” Melda yelled, stuffing her pen and book into her apron as she rushed into the back room. Moments later, the muffled sounds of an argument broke out between the two women.

Phennic sighed and settled onto a stool on the other side of the bar, his expression softening. “Take no offense, Relyen. Gwingiel’s awakening was… tough,” he said, a shadow of something crossing his face.

There it was again, that word. "Awakening," I said, confused. “What is that?” I asked, trying to piece it together. “I get that it has something to do with this presence you’ve mentioned, but I’ve never heard of it before.” At least, nothing in the game ever mentioned it.

Phennic studied me carefully, his brow furrowing slightly as though weighing just how much I truly didn’t understand. “An awakening,” he began, leaning forward on the bar to adjust his position, “is when one’s Mygeus Core is fully mature and binds with their body, unlocking the budding potential within." He tapped his abdomen for emphasis. “For some, it happens through training… for most, it’s triggered through stressful situations. Once it opens, your senses expand, and you connect to the Mygeus within and around you." He waved his hand, and the air around it seemed to shimmer faintly, buzzing softly as though alive.

He fixed me with a pointed look. “It’s rare for someone to awaken naturally, without any external trigger. That only happens with those who are exceptionally attuned to their core, like the elves… or,” he trailed off, muttering something under his breath.

“Core?” I asked, focusing on the part that made the least sense to me, ignoring the nuance for now.

Phennic nodded. “The source of your Mygeus,” he explained, tapping his abdomen again. “It’s what allows you to perform Endowment or Evocation thaumaturgy. Everything starts and flows from there,” he added, pausing to let me collect my thoughts.

“So, everyone who uses thaumaturgy has to awaken first?” I asked, still piecing everything together.

“Not exactly,” he said, shaking his head. “Awakening is the foundation. Without it, their Mygeus Core remains dormant, and any amount of effort to use Mygeus will feel like squeezing water out of a rag. Outside of using basic Runecraft, awakening is a must if they want to grow. Otherwise, they’ll hit a wall. Going through the process strengthens the bond between you, your core, and the Mygeus around you, making your thaumaturgy stronger, your sense sharper, and well, your presence is greater.”

My hand instinctively moved to my stomach, where I felt that pool of warmth now. That must’ve been what it was, an awakening, I thought, recalling the searing pain that had flowed through me like magma. Now, though, it felt different, almost soothing, as I felt it flow throughout my body, like having a weapon I could call on at any time.

Still, confusion nagged at me. Why didn’t the game ever mention this? Or could it be that it was never a part of the game, to begin with, I wondered. The lore of Zenith Rising Online was always meant to be discovered by players, but there had never been anything about Mygeus Cores or awakenings, not even on the forums. And Endowment and Evocation thaumaturgy? Were those just fancy names for using skills? I understood what evocation meant, but endowment was a bit less so, was it related to buffs or stat augments?

As I mused inwardly, I must’ve had a confused look on my face as Phennic continued his explanation. “Presence,” he said, leaning forward slightly, “is the passive resonance you give off when your Mygeus Core has awakened. It’s a reflection of your intent, emotions, and strength… It’s subtle for none awakened and overwhelming for those that are.” He gestured toward himself and the back room where Gwingiel still argued with Melda.

“When you awakened last night, your Mygeus Core integrated with your body, amplifying your presence. That’s why Gwin said you were ‘blasting’ it everywhere, it’s unrefined.”

“So, it’s like… I’m leaking Aura?” I replied with a frown.

“Aura?” Phennic repeated with a nod as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Yes, I’ve heard that word before. It’s what the easterners call presence. Their approach to Mygeus is a bit... different, as far as I know. It’s harmless at first, but if you’re not careful, a strong presence can give you away to enemies, or crush weaker wills who aren’t prepared for it. You’ve already felt it firsthand, haven’t you?” he said with a pointed look. “That oppressive feeling you got earlier when Gwin and I let ours slip.”

I nodded slowly. “So, I have to control it?”

"Yes,” he said seriously, “As I said, it passively resonates with the Mygeus around you. It reveals you and, if you’re not careful, can harm you.” Phennic's tone grew serious. “For awakened, they need to learn to control their presence. It’s not just uncomfortable for others, it can attract unwanted attention.”

“What kind of attention?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended as a chill crept up my spine.

“The kind that doesn’t care if you’re ready or not,” he said simply. “Monsters, for one, will sense how weak your will is through your presence. They won’t hesitate to kill you and consume your core to grow stronger. But they aren’t the attention you want to avoid most.” He paused, little his implication linger in the air.

“You mean other awakened? Why?” I ventured, already suspecting where this was headed.

He nodded. “To grow stronger,” he said, clearing his throat. “Absorbing the cores of others awakened allows you to strengthen your own faster. It’s... efficient, but dangerous. You’re not only risking your life, but it can become an addiction if you’re not careful. The fast and easy progress can be exhilarating. That’s part of the reason many prefer to join the guild and hunt monsters. Their cores are far less corrupting.”

His gaze turned distant, his expression darkening as though he was recalling something unpleasant. The silence stretched uncomfortably as I digested the conversation. The idea of people hunting each other for power wasn’t new to me, at least in the context of the game. Player-versus-player conflicts were common. Whether for resource gathering, controlling monster habitats, or even settling petty grudges with other player guilds.

In the game, there were clear incentives to fight. Once you hit the third-quarter leveling bracket, where progress slowed to a crawl, killing other players offered significantly more experience points. Outside of dungeons, raids, or world boss campaigns, hunting players in contested territories yielded better rewards than grinding against regular monsters. At that stage, fighting other players often felt like the fastest path forward.

But this place was… real. Treating lives like stepping stones to get stronger? That’s fucked up.

“But... is it common? To just kill and take cores from others?” I asked hesitantly, not sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

“It happens,” he said after a long moment, his voice heavy. “More often than I’d like to admit.” He paused, studying me. “Tell me, Relyen, did your clan not teach you the basics of Awakening?”

The sudden question caught me off guard, his tone genuinely puzzled. "Uh...," I replied, scrambling to think of a believable answer. My frown deepened as I tried to make sense of the question. A clan? Wait, do elves even have those in the game? Shit, I should have paid more attention to the cultures on the forums.

“I, uh…” I stumbled over my words, unsure how to explain myself. “I didn’t exactly grow up… with a clan,” I said hesitantly, considering how to broach the topic of my arrival in this world yesterday. “This is all new to me.”

Phennic’s forehead wrinkled, his brows knitting together. “No one taught you how to control your Core?”

“Not a soul,” I admitted, shrugging awkwardly. “I only arrived here yesterday,” I said, taking the opportunity, and threw it out there casually and watched his reaction carefully. I need to see if people arriving here is a common thing if it is then that means there are others.

“Arrived here?” he repeated, his voice dropping to a whisper. His brows deepened, and his hand froze mid-stroke in his beard. His sharp eyes scanned the tavern. Confused, I followed his gaze and noticed the place was nearly empty, save for one person.

“Kessal,” Phennic said suddenly, breaking the silence and catching the attention of a man seated by the windows. He was cloaked, with long hair spilling over his shoulders, engrossed in an old book as he sipped from his mug.

“Hm?” the man replied with a deep hum without looking up, his tone disinterested.

“Care to take off early?” Phennic asked. The man finally lifted his eyes, lazily flicking between me and Phennic, his expression unreadable as he closed his book with a clap.

“I suppose taking a few contracts early wouldn’t hurt,” Kessal replied, stowing the book into a rucksack hidden beneath his cloak. As he stood, chains rattled faintly under the folds of his clothes. Without another word, he walked to the door and disappeared outside, the door shutting softly behind him.

The tavern was quiet again, and I looked back at Phennic, unsure of what had just happened. What was that about? I thought, a bad feeling creeping into my gut as Phennic turned his intense gaze back toward me.

“Relyen, how did you arrive here, in the kingdom?” he asked, his tone sharp, his piercing stare sending a shiver down my spine.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. The thought flickered briefly, but I quickly dismissed it. If I don’t tell someone, I’ll never get anywhere. Besides, it’s not like I have any better ideas other than aimlessly wandering the city. Taking a deep breath, I decided to recount everything that had happened to me since I woke up in this world.

By the time I finished, Phennic stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I’ve often heard that people in your situation can use thaumaturgy immediately,” he said, his voice measured. “What can you—”

“Fireball,” I interrupted, raising my hand. A red-yellow flame sparked to life in my palm, dancing back and forth with a lazy flicker as the warmth radiated against my skin.

Phennic’s eyes slightly widened, his hand frozen mid-stroke on his beard. “Galador’s beard, that’s…” He trailed off, at a loss for words.

“Fucking weird is what it is,” Gwingiel interjected, striding back into the room with a large mug in hand. “I figured you were sent on your Arvendralis early or something. We get a couple of you knife-ears passing through every so often, all out to ‘become worthy adults,’” she said mockingly, making air quotes with her fingers. “But turns out you’re a Resonant?” She casually hopped over the bar, setting her mug down before plopping onto her stool. “Those so-called gifted bastards?” She scoffed, shaking her head, after glancing at the flame in my hand. “Fucking unfair is what you people are.”

I stared at her, clenching my fist around the flame until it extinguished, trying to process what she’d just said. "Resonants?" I repeated excitedly, so there are others like me.

"Yeah," she replied briskly. "You lot just wake up one day and get handed all that power on a silver platter, while the rest of us have to work for it." She gestured vaguely toward my ears, adding, "Makes sense now why your ears aren’t as sharp as the other knife-ears I’ve seen."

My brows furrowed. "Wait, so you believe me?" I asked, surprised by how easily she seemed to accept my story. Of course, I’m excited to know there are others, but on Earth, or even here, I’d imagine anyone talking about waking up in another world would sound crazy.

Gwingiel rolled her eyes and took a long swig from her mug before answering. “Oh, I believe you. You’re too clueless to be making this shit up,” she said bluntly, setting her mug down with a loud thunk. “Besides, no one just pretends to be a Resonant. If you were lying, you’d be dead or in some noble’s shagg sack already.” She replied.

“Shagg sack?” I repeated as a disgusted shiver slithered down my spine.

Phennic leaned forward, his expression serious. "Resonants are rare and powerful, Relyen, and because of that, they’re targeted. Many of their stories don’t end well."

Great, so not only am I stuck in a bizarre world similar to a fucking a video game, but I’m also marked as some kind of gifted freak with a giant target on my back? And now there are creepy nobles involved too? This is some bull.

"So, you believe me because it’s too dangerous and stupid to lie about?" I asked.

“That,” Phennic said, “and your presence. It’s unrefined and chaotic, but it feels similar to the person I’ve met,” he said and my heart pounded in my chest. I can be found out?!

“You’ve awakened recently, and you clearly have no idea what you’re doing. No elven clan would allow a naive child like you to leave the safety of their heartlands.” He said, giving me a pointed look, and I couldn’t help but feel slightly insulted, even if he wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah, and your ears,” Gwingiel added, bringing up my ears again. “Not pointy enough for a full-blooded darky. You’re definitely a mix born, that’s rare too, tracks if you’re from wherever the hell you people say you’re from.” She said with a shrug.

I touched my ears unintentionally. “Mixborn… Are they Resonants too?” I asked, but she just laughed. Ears can’t be that nonuniform between elves, right?

“Nah, they’re rare too, but aren’t always Resonants,” she said, leaning back in her chair.

Phennic nodded. “The important thing now is that you figure out how to control your presence. If you’re as clueless as you seem, you’ll end up in trouble sooner rather than later.”

Gwingiel took another swig from her mug, her gaze shifting back to me, appraising. “Let me guess, you wanna go home?” she asked, wiping her mouth on her sleeve with a lopsided grin.

“Is that possible?!” I asked in a rush, hope blooming in my chest. There was actually a way to go home.

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied with a casual shrug instantly dousing my hopes.

“Then why’d you ask me, then?!” I snapped growl, irritation burning in my chest as I scowled at her shitty attitude. What the fuck is her problem? Gwingiel just smirked and took another gulp of her drink, clearly enjoying my frustration.

“Gwin, stop messing with her,” Melda interjected as she reentered the room, her tone sharp with disapproval.

Phennic gave Gwingiel a warning look but said nothing. Gwingiel rolled her eyes with exaggerated drama. “What? I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. Don’t they all rave about going home in the stories?” she said, popping another nut into her mouth with a careless shrug.

“Alright, alright,” she said, raising her hands in mock surrender. The smirk tugging at the corners of her lips showed she wasn’t taking the rebuke seriously. “Touchy subject, fine by me.” She leaned back in her chair, her expression shifting to something more calculating as she gave me a look that sent a chill down my spine. “Just trying to see if the lass is anything like the stories,” she added cryptically.

“Gwin, why are you here so early? You’re usually out taking contracts,” Phennic asked, his tone shifting as he abruptly changed the subject.

“Oh… right,” she replied, pausing as her brow furrowed. “Ah, Lissa asked me to tell you to meet the guild master. Says there’s something urgent to talk about, something to do with those Holy Sun bastards.”

Phennic tilted his head, puzzled. “That’s all? There’s nothing unusual about more clergymen coming to the Kingdom.”

“Well, they weren’t just clergymen, as far as I know,” Gwingiel countered. “And if you’d gone to the guild three weeks ago, like I told you to, you’d probably know more about it.” She said sarcastically.

“Gwin, you said nothing about going to the guild three weeks ago.” Phennic replied, letting out a weary sigh.

She shrugged, utterly unapologetic. “Yeah, well, maybe I forgot,” she admitted, popping a couple of nuts into her mouth and chewing loudly. “But you’re still to blame, seeing as you haven’t been going to the guild at all lately.” She said, gesturing toward him with one of the nuts. “Besides, I ain’t that woman’s gopher,” she added with a growl, her voice muffled by her chewing.

“Still,” she continued after a pause, dropping her playful demeanor, “you should probably go in today. It sounds serious.” She added quickly before Phennic could open his mouth to respond.

“Father, just go,” Melda chimed in, as she balanced a tray full of cutlery, before disappearing into the back room behind the bar. “I can handle things here!” She yelled from within the room.

“Alright,” Phennic replied with a resigned grunt, rising from the stool and following Melda into the back room. Moments later, he reappeared, adjusting a long, weathered green coat that draped down to his knees. He smoothed back his messy grey hair, pausing briefly before turning to me. “Given your situation, Relyen,” he began, raising a finger with a frown before he abruptly ducked back into the room.

When he returned, he held a pair of thick silver gauntlets that seemed to pulse faintly with a soft glow. He set one on the bar with a weighty thunk, their intricate engravings catching the light. “It’s best if you stay here for a while until I return,” he suggested, taking the other gauntlet, and strapped it onto his forearm. He didn’t have to explain why, it simply wasn’t safe for me to be wandering about just yet.

I started to nod in agreement, but a thought struck me. “Wait, this guild you’re going to... is that where I might find others like me?” I curiously asked. If the guild was as expansive as I imagined, with branches sharing information, it might be a place where I could find answers or clues of other Resonants

Phennic paused mid-step as he rounded the bar, joining Gwingiel and me on the other side. "Not necessarily," he replied as he picked up and strapped on the second gauntlet. "Your kind is... rare." he said as if choosing his words carefully.

"Like I said before," he continued, "if you reveal what you are, you’ll be targeted, even if you join the guild for protection.” He adjusted the gauntlet on his wrists, his gaze steady. “The guild is like a quiver, shooting hunters at monsters, not a shield. Monsters and awakened alike don’t always follow rules, and the guild can’t always protect you, especially on contracts where no one but your party and Galador knows how you mysteriously didn’t return.”

“I have no intention of doing that,” I replied bluntly. Like hell, I’d paint a big fat target on my back without any guarantees. “I just need to find other Resonants,” I said firmly, making up my mind. Phennic has been genuinely helpful, I learned a lot today, but I wasn’t some damsel in distress. Well, fuck, not entirely. I needed to do what I thought was best, and I’d take whatever advice I got along the way into consideration, nothing more, nothing less.

The old man stared at me for a long moment, his bearded face unreadable, then gave a small nod. “I understand,” he said, his voice calm.

Without warning, he approached me, and I almost took a step back as the large old man loomed over me. Just being near him I felt his presence pressing down like a tangible weight. He stopped just a foot away, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. “If you’re going to the guild, then you’ll need to learn how to hide your presence, no?”

Off to the side, Gwingiel snickered, clearly amused. “Well, if you’re going to crush the lass, hurry up. You’re burning daylight, old man,” she mocked, reaching over the counter to snatch up the bowl of nuts Melda had surreptitiously refilled. She popped a few into her mouth, chewing loudly, her grin unapologetic.

I glanced back at Phennic, his intense gaze not wavering. “Alright,” I said hesitantly, “how do I do it?” I ask staring up at the man.

"Listen closely," Phennic began. "The fastest way for a newly awakened to sense their own presence is when it’s being heavily suppressed. Earlier, you felt what it was like to have your presence erased, that overwhelming sense of pressure and fear you couldn’t resist. That happens when your will is crushed by a greater one."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry, as he continued.

"I’m going to crush your presence just enough to bring it to the verge of being erased. This won’t be a pleasant experience," he warned. "You’ll need to push back against my presence by forming a shield with your will. If you can do that, going to the guild will be far less dangerous. Do you understand?"

I hesitated before nodding.

"Good. All you have to do is say stop if you can’t stand back up," he said sharply, his expression hardening.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted sharply, like the faint ripple of wind before a storm. The low buzzing I’d grown used to turned violent, swirling around me like a swarm of invisible wasps. The air thickened with each passing second, dense and suffocating, pressing down on me like an unrelenting tide. My breath hitched as I collapsed to my hands and knees, an invisible weight settled over me, crushing, like a thousand unseen hands pinning me in place.

Panic stirred in my chest as my eyes darted around the room that seemed to implode inward. Rationally, I knew the room wasn’t actually shrinking, and the air hadn’t thickened. Yet, despite knowing that, I couldn’t stop my body feeling like it was. I trembled, as though I were stranded in the biting cold of winter.

"Focus, Relyen," Phennic’s voice boomed, each word crashing like thunder in my ears. "Harden your resolve and push back."

My heart pounded wildly, each beat echoing in my skull as I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms and leaving deep crescents in my skin. The room spun, and my head grew light. It felt as though I were being squeezed from all sides, my chest burning with each labored breath that seemed stolen halfway.

"Push back!" Phennic’s voice thundered again, slicing through the chaos in my mind. "Find your will and fight!" he repeated with a roar. "Or would you rather stay here, hiding like a coward?" he added, his tone mocking.

Why did I ask for this? I thought, my body trembled uncontrollably, every muscle refusing to obey as panic surged through me. I could have stayed here and waited. It’s not like I’m in any rush to find anyone. What the hell was I thinking?!

"Looks like this one’s a dud, Phen," a distorted voice said, cutting through the haze forming in my head. "Might as well kick the lass out now, she’ll only get us in trouble with the nobility." Gwingiel’s voice came from somewhere beside me.

This bitch has been talking shit since I met her. What the fuck did I do to her? I thought as irritation bubbled into anger, blanketing the bone-chilling fear coursing through me. A sharp, salty tang filled my mouth as I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. I forced myself to my feet, every muscle trembling under the crushing weight.

You want me to push? Fine.

I focused, feeling the overwhelming weight of Phennic’s presence, a crushing force, like a three-hundred-pound weighted blanket draped over my back. Anger burned in my chest, fueling me as I gripped the weight and pushed. Every fiber of my body straining under the effort. My bones felt like they might snap, my muscles weak and trembled, but I didn’t care.

I gave it everything I had. Slowly, agonizingly, I felt it budge. My foot found purchase beneath me, and with a groan of effort, I began to rise, inch by inch.

Then, suddenly, it vanished. The weight disappeared, and my strength went with it. I fell forward, numb, and somehow utterly drained of energy. The room spun, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision as the ground rushed up to meet my face.