As the team began to stir, Thepa focused her attention on Wilran. She watched the elf's brown eyes squint in discomfort as she tried to adjust to the sudden brightness of the sun. She raised a hand to her temple, massaging it gently—a telltale sign of disorientation. A part of Thepa could only imagine how jarring it must have felt to wake up in an unfamiliar place, with no memory of how long they'd been out. The sun's heat beat down on them, its brightness unrelenting as they tried to shake off the grogginess.

Somewhat confused by their state, Thepa inquired, "Something wrong?"

Before Nel could answer, Skydane's laugh cut through the air. "We drugged them. Ran them ragged around the tarmac and when they begged for water, well... we gave them a nice sleeping potion."

Nel chuckled. "Like I said, Father, you've always had a mean streak. Even the Arcadia can't outrun it."

"Mean streak?" Skydane snorted. "It wasn't easy raising you, Nel. You weren't the most agreeable youngling either."

After a few moments, Wilran unfastened her shield from her arm, letting it clatter to the ground. Thepa watched her fingers move in precise, practiced motions, casting a healing spell—a routine she'd likely performed countless times.

"Well, they are the best of the best. We're not going to trust our city to just anyone. Let's give them a little prodding." Nel touched her throat and her voice boomed out once again, "Not off to a good start, maggots... Let's see some hustle!"

Thepa's gaze drifted back to Wilran, who moved cautiously as she rose to her feet, retrieving her weapon with deliberate slowness. The elf approached the platform's edge, peering down. Suddenly, she recoiled, startled. Thepa squinted, estimating they were at least fifty feet above the ground—maybe higher on a platform that had to be magically suspended in midair. Without any landmarks to gauge, it was hard to tell, but the height seemed unnerving.

Wilran's attention shifted upward toward the Arcadia, but a deafening roar erupted from the bugbear in the center, causing her to flinch. The beast strained against its cage, its guttural cries echoing against the haul. Just outside its reach was a club, one Thepa was sure would be soon put to good use.

"Good thing she stepped back," Skydane remarked with a dry smirk.

Thepa offered a silent nod. A flicker of unease sparked within her, though not from concern for Wilran. Still, she said nothing.

"Welcome to hell 'Elite Team One.'" Boomed Nel's voice. "It's time to put all that training to good use. Beat the bugbear and win. Fail and well... at least there's always 'Elite Team Two.'"

Thepa watched as the team—still sluggish and unsteady—tried to regain their balance. Their movements were clumsy, heads shaking in futile attempts to clear the haze from the sleeping potion.

"One more thing to make it interesting," Nel added, her voice dripping with mischief. "The platform's balanced. Tip it too far one way, and, well... I hope you're quick on your feet."

Thepa turned to Nel and gave the human a blank stare. "Balanced?"

Nel shrugged, nonchalant. "They're supposed to be the best. Any squad worth their salt can take down a bugbear. But teamwork? Adaptation? Let's see if they can handle something unpredictable." Her eyes gleamed with a hint of challenge. "Besides, what's the point of a test without a little risk?"

With a fierce roar, the bugbear burst from its cage, gripping a massive club as it charged toward Wilran. The elf's eyes widened in terror as she raised her shield, bracing for the attack. The ground beneath her violently groaned as the platform tilted, but Wilran quickly adapted, using the momentum to her advantage. She dodged the creature's strike with a nimble sidestep, planting her back foot firmly before countering with a swift, blow of her own.

Unfortunately, the elf overcalculated. Wilran's mace arched high over the bugbear's head. It seized the moment, its massive paw-like hand swiping her shoulder, sending her staggering back. A short cry escaped Wilran's lips, but rather than succumb to it, she shifted her stance into a defensive crouch as the beast loomed over her. She barely had time to recover before Zuna swept in from behind, slashing at the bugbear with fluid strikes. Grateful for the help, Wilran, didn't hesitate. She let Zuna take the lead, her nimble fingers tracing a spell across the air, healing her shoulder with a soft glow.

While Wilran and Zuna dealt with the creature, Thepa's eyes darted to the other side of the platform, where the rest of the team had huddled together. The weight distribution had shifted when the bugbear charged towards Wilran, causing the platform to tilt precariously. But the trio of men — Tash, Yenry, and Julius — had instinctively grouped together, their combined weight helping to stabilize the platform back in the team's favor.

From the corner of her eyes, she could see Skydane spit over the taffrail. "Damn," he swore. "They figured it out."

"Patience, father," Nel replied with a hint of amusement. "We wouldn't want them failing too soon, would we? Think of the paperwork."

Skydane grunted in response, but Thepa's attention had already returned to the fight. Wilran, seizing a brief opening, landed a solid hit on the bugbear, wrenching its attention back to her. The creature roared in fury and swung its club, but Zuna acted fast, grabbing it like a dog and yank it back towards the middle of the platform. Again, the platform started to tilt off kilter. On the other side of the platform, Julius started to sing.

Wilran moved back to rebalance the platform, but uncertainty washed over her face. Thepa could tell she was stuck. She was too far away from the rest of the group to be of any help and too far away from the creature to use her mace. With nothing to do, Wilran stood and watched. Once more, something pricked in the pit of Thepa's stomach.

Zuna and the bugbear clashed violently, each driven by primal fury. For a moment, Zuna seemed to dominate, but the tide turned abruptly when Yenry shot a firebolt through the air, grazing the bugbear's side. The beast reacted with terrifying speed, hurling Zuna aside as it lunged toward Yenry, knocking him off balance. The platform jolted sharply, and Wilran sprinted toward Tash to counter the shift, her boots sliding as the ground beneath them tilted precariously once more.

Julius shouted something over the chaos, but Thepa could barely hear him over the howling wind and the rhythmic thrum of the Arcadia's engine. Still, the gestures between him and Wilran were clear — they had a plan. Whether it would work remained to be seen.

"Care to make a wager?" Skydane ask.

Nel smiled, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. "I don't think that would be fair, Father. It wouldn't be right for me to take the people's money from you."

Skydane snorted, already annoyed. "If you're too scared—"

"Oh, if you insist," Nel interrupted, her grin widening. "The usual, then."

On the platform, Wilran channeled magic into her mace as the bugbear turned on her. The glowing weapon lit up the space, catching the creature off guard. It stumbled, raising an arm to block the light just as Zuna saw her chance. With a powerful shove, the satyr sent the bugbear crashing off the edge of the platform. As the creature plummeted, the entire structure wobbled violently, tilting back and forth in rapid jerks, like a coin spinning on its edge before settling. Each shift sent waves through the platform, causing it to sway and bounce unpredictably as the weight of the squad tried to stabilize it. It was only when it finished did the team finally relax.

Nel reached out her hand towards the president. "Pay up," she said with a grin. Reluctantly, the president handed over the money. A new feeling pricked inside Thepa - something sweet that she hadn't felt in weeks. Without realizing it, she started to clap while Nel and Skydane joined in.

When it was all over, Skydane gave a curt nod and turned, heading for the exit. Thepa followed, and as they reached the door, the president, surprisingly gracious, held it open for her. Just as she passed through, Nel's voice echoed across the space once more.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Let's pick 'em up, boys! Looks like some dogs are going to be strutting across the graduation stage!"

After the team was collected, The Arcadia landed allowing time for its passengers to disembark where a small graduation ceremony was held in their honor. It was there Thepa gave a short speech about the future of the team, friendship, and the importance of relying on one another as they carried on their missions on behalf of their nations and the betterment of Sainta.

"I know the challenges ahead of you will not be easy. You will be pushed to your limits, both physically and mentally. But I have seen what you are capable of, and I have faith that you will rise to the occasion. Together, we will overcome any obstacle in our path".

Of the five, Wilran stood out to Thepa with an earnest expression that commanded her attention. Unlike the other members of the squad, who seemed distracted or indifferent, the elf was genuinely invested in what Thepa had to say. Wilran hung on her every word, absorbing even the simplest platitudes Thepa offered. As their eyes met, Thepa felt a peculiar intensity in Wilran's gaze, a connection that held her attention captive. This level of scrutiny was unfamiliar; soldiers rarely stared directly at her during speeches, and it made her uneasy, as if Wilran were searching for something deeper in her words. However, Thepa dismissed it as mere coincidence, attributing it to the awkwardness of the moment.

As the graduation ceremony progressed, Thepa felt the magical numbness that had kept her emotions at bay begin to dissolve. A dull ache enveloped her heart, growing sharper, like a thorn digging deeper into her skin with each passing moment. The darkness that had settled within her was both physically and emotionally draining, tightening its grip as it threatened to overwhelm her. Recognizing the familiar pull of despair, she swiftly exited the area before anyone could notice her struggle. But as she stepped away, the darkness whispered its name to her very soul, calling out in a voice she could no longer ignore.

"Misery," it sang, its voice a haunting melody that echoed through her thoughts. In its ugly dirge, a low harmony joined the call, summoning its three companions: Guilt, Grief, and Loneliness. They gathered like shadows, intertwining their influence and threatening to suffocate her resolve. Thepa felt the creeping sensation of Misery coiling up her spine, inching closer to her mind, determined to transform her into a blubbering mess of despair.

But what to do? Thepa thought or rather not thought about it. For her to think about it would only give a faster rise to the darkness. Finding another shaman was out of the question. Even if she wasn't worried about someone in this town finding out about what she was doing, it seemed highly unlikely she would find a shaman in Lightmount as magic here was scarce. Most couldn't perform simple cantrips beyond what she had observed Nel doing with her voice.

In search of a solution, Thepa wandered through the bustling streets of the city, her heart heavy with unshakeable thoughts. She scanned every alley and corner, hoping to find a shaman or a healer who could help her, but each step led to disappointment. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the cobblestone paths, she began to accept her fate. Yet as she turned down a new street, raucous laughter and boisterous chatter of a nearby tavern caught her attention.

The sounds spilled out onto the street, vibrant and inviting, igniting a spark of inspiration within her. Checking her coin purse, she paused to take a deep breath, then pushed through the heavy wooden doors and into the lively atmosphere. The warmth of the room enveloped her, and she could feel the pulse of camaraderie and revelry swirling around her.

"I win," came a high-pitched squeak echoing across the tavern. To her detriment, it wasn't what she expected. At a table in the center of the room, were the last Saintians she expected to see: all five members of Elite Team One. Very quickly, her plan was falling apart even before she had the chance to implement its first stage.

Julius chuckled, his voice booming over the raucous chatter of the tavern. "It's only the first round, my friend. You've may have one a single battle, but I know I'll win the war. Barman, another round for me and the overzealous halfling over here!"

Yenry scowled, his irritation evident, while the other four members of the group erupted into laughter at his expense. The Barman, catching Thepa's eye, gestured toward an empty table near the revelers, then brought over a tray laden with frothy glasses of ale for the two men to continue their game. Despite the commotion, none of the group seemed to notice her presence, lost in their banter.

Yenry, picking up his glass, took a deep swig and shot a challenging look at Julius. "We'll see who's the better drinker when you're passed out on the ground in a stupor and I'm still coherent enough to scribe my next spell."

Julius tossed a few silver coins onto the bar, his hazel eyes rolling in mock exasperation. "Well, then put your silver where your mouth is. The next two rounds are on the loser."

"You're on," Yenry replied, raising his glass high. "Count us down, Wilran!"

Wilran beamed, clearly enjoying the lively atmosphere. "Sounds good. Three, two—oh, Captain Thepa!"

At her mention, Yenry seized the moment, launching into a fierce chugging contest with unrestrained enthusiasm. The mead poured from his mug in torrents, splattering and dribbling down his chin. If Thepa had been in a better emotional state, she might have found the sight appalling, but tonight, it felt like a welcome distraction. She marveled at how the diminutive halfling could drink so much, considering his size and the cheap quality of the vintage.

When he was finished, he slammed the mug down with triumph, shouting, "I win again!"

Julius shot him a dubious look, raising an eyebrow. "Clearly, you're jesting, my friend. It was obvious the match was called out of respect for Captain Thepa."

Taking that cue, Thepa stepped forward, just in time to see Yenry salute her with his drink. "Victory, Ms. Thepa! Care to join us for a drink?" he offered, his face alight and half way to a stupor.

Think Thepa, think, she slightly chastised herself. She knew she should have left the moment she entered knowing they were here, but curiosity had got the better of her. Now, she had no hope of enacting her plan.

As if to read her thoughts, Wilran gave her a sympathetic smile and gestured for her to sit, but Thepa outright refused. Shaking her head, she answered them callously.

"No thank you, Mr. Riverberry. Furthermore, I'll have you know that it's Captain Thepa, seeing as how Elite Team One will now be reporting directly to me."

Yenry stammered, "My apologies Captain Thepa. What can I do for you?"

Thepa reached into her bag, retrieving a smaller pouch emblazoned with the seal of Wildehaven. "I've been asked by Mistress Verola to deliver this to you. It contains a diplomatic pouch for you to carry at all times, allowing you to be contacted on behalf of your homeland. It would be wise for you to write reports detailing the status of the team. There's already a note inside for you."

It wasn't completely untrue. Thepa hadn't planned on giving it to him until the team reached Goldale. For the moment, it allowed her an out to leave this place and try her luck elsewhere.

Yenry accepted the pouch with a nod of gratitude. "Will you be traveling with us tomorrow... Captain?"

Thepa shook her head, "I'm on my way back to Goldale on one of the fishing vessels. It appears you all are taking the long way. They want you to check in on the progress of the destroyed ionic crystal, and deliver some supplies to the two outposts on your way. I'm not sure what exactly they want you to do at the ionic crystal, but if you can attune to it, it might be beneficial to their research. I'll see you all after you get there. Goodnight, Elite Team One." Before making her way out the door, she looked back and addressed the team one more time. "Please, be safe."

Frustrated, Thepa let out an exasperated sigh as she let the door swing shut behind her. She could still hear the laugher of the group which now taunted her existence. The dullness that ached in her chest was starting to cry out once again piercing the edge of her psyche. With nothing left to do, she stumbled into the back alley, tears threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes. Grief loomed large, a shadow creeping ever closer, urging her to flee.

That's when she saw it.

Cases upon cases of unattended bottles of potato water were stacked around the back door, their pungent aroma wafting through the darkened glass and wax-sealed corks. Each bottle bore a label depicting a mountain Thepa knew not to be too far from the city. Like a thief in the night, she had found what she had so desperately craved.

Thepa's heart pounded as adrenaline kicked Grief to the side. With a swift motion and a sideways twitch of the ear, Thepa checked that the coast was clear before lifting six bottles into her bag. Briefly, she considered leaving some coin, but took off the moment she heard momentum from the door. A pang of regret pricked the back of her mind as the voice of Zelphina chastised her for the punishment she knew she deserved.

"You bring dishonor on your people. You don't deserve to be our leader."

That voice—cold and cutting—was the worst part of it all. As much as she hated it, she couldn't deny its cruel truth. She resented how she had used dishonesty to mask her grief, justifying her actions to herself. But she was past the point of turning back. Committed now, she ran, dodging through the streets until she reached the docks, where a ship was preparing to set sail.

Finding the most senior-looking person on the ship, Thepa spoke with trepidation. "Are you the captain of this vessel?"

The captain, a female Galak with darkened skin, eyed her suspiciously, her hand resting on the flintlock strapped to her belt. "What's it to you, lass? If you're seeking transport, you best find another boat."

Determined and with time slipping away, Thepa stood her ground. By now Guilt and Grief eagerly joined Misery hand in hand beckoning Loneliness to come over. With a swift motion she dropped her purse on the deck. Its heavy weight hit the ground with a thunk grabbing the woman's attention. "I need passage to Goldale. Can you get me there in two days?"

The woman hesitated. She looked back towards a larger male Galak whose skin equally matched her own. They exchanged a look, before the woman slowly turned back to her. "We still need our catch. It's non-negotiable. The best we could do is four."

Thepa nodded. "A private cabin, and I'll call it even. Just fetch me when we're there."

The woman nodded and showed her to a large cabin she believed belonged to the two Galaks in command of the vessel. It had a homely feel to it fit for a captain and her mate, but Thepa took to the floor in the corner. Finally alone, she pulled the cork off the first bottle and drank heavily despite the burn that punctuated down her throat. By the time she finished its fowl taste and let its glass roll across the floor, she could feel the numbness return as the boat sailed away unto the night.