The cold night air and rain stung Elena's cheeks as she sprinted through the dimly lit streets, her heart pounding in her chest. Guilt and regret from her confrontation with Lila twisted her insides, making it hard to breathe. She needed to find Lila, to apologize, to somehow make things right. Elena didn't know if she ever would, but she had to try. If it took her a hundred years, she'd do what she could to make up for it. And yet each step felt like she was wading through molasses, her thoughts a whirlwind of self-recrimination.
The city around her seemed eerily quiet, the usual bustle of activity replaced by a haunting stillness. The cobblestone streets, slick with rain, glistened under the faint glow of streetlamps. Shadows danced along the walls of the buildings, their shapes stretching and shifting in the flickering light. Elena's footsteps echoed off the narrow alleyways, each sound a reminder of the urgency driving her forward.
As she turned a corner, Elena spotted a familiar figure up ahead. Her heart leapt into her throat as she realized it was Lila, her shoulders hunched as she hurried out of the inn and away from Elena. "Lila!" Elena called out, her voice cracking with desperation. "Wait, please!"
But Lila didn't stop. Her pace quickened, and Elena could swear she saw the glistening trail of tears on Lila's cheeks as she glanced back. The sight of Lila's pain, pain that Elena had caused, spurred her to run faster. Her lungs burned, and her legs ached, but she couldn't let Lila go without trying to make amends.
Suddenly, a powerful force yanked Elena off her path and hurled her against the rough, cold brick of an alley wall. Her head spun from the impact, and as she struggled to regain her balance, she found herself staring into the furious eyes of Lehara. Lehara's normally calm and gentle demeanor was replaced by a storm of anger that Elena had never seen before. The air around them seemed to crackle with tension, and Elena felt a chill run down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold night air.
"Lele, what the hell—" Elena started, but Lehara cut her off with a voice like ice.
"Save it, John," Lehara said, her face twisting as if saying the name was like swallowing bile. "You've said enough tonight." She spat on Elena, her grip on Elena's shoulders tightening. The use of that name, the one Elena had been trying so hard to leave behind, felt like a slap across the face.
"But my name—" Elena said, her voice wavering.
Lehara's anger flared up, and Elena felt a pressure on her body as Lehara's aura compressed on her. It was as if the very air around them had become heavy, pressing down on Elena from all sides. "Oh, now you feel like a girl? So what is it, John? You only feel like a girl when someone bigger and stronger makes you weak? You feel like a big strong man the rest of the time, John?"
Elena could feel the pain as Lehara squeezed and her bones tried to dislocate themselves. The physical discomfort, however, was nothing compared to the emotional anguish Lehara's words were inflicting. Each syllable of that name felt like a dagger, twisting deeper into Elena's heart. For the first time, hearing her old name felt wrong.
"What you said to Lily was unforgivable. How could you be so cruel?" Lehara's voice cracked slightly, betraying a hint of the hurt that lay beneath her anger.
Elena opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. The intensity of Lehara's anger, the disappointment in her eyes, made it clear that there was nothing Elena could say to justify her actions. She saw in Lehara's eyes not just anger, but a profound sense of betrayal. It was as if Elena had shattered something precious, something that Lehara wasn't sure could ever be repaired.
"You think you're the only one struggling?" Lehara continued, her voice actually shaking with fury. The tremor in her voice revealed the depth of her emotion, a complex mixture of anger, disappointment, and pain. "We all have our battles, John. But that doesn't give you the right to lash out at the people who care about you."
Tears stung Elena's eyes, but she fought to hold them back. The weight of her actions, the hurt she had caused, crashed down upon her like a physical force. "I know, Lele. I know I messed up. I just... I didn't mean to—"
"Didn't mean to?" Lehara interrupted, her voice rising in both volume and fury. It was as if Elena's trying to apologize was just adding fuel to the fire. Her eyes flashed dangerously, and for a moment, Elena thought she saw a flicker of magical energy dance across Lehara's skin. "Oh well, that's good. Never mind then. It's not like you told her she was a desperate, pathetic loser! Do you have any idea how much that hurt her? Do you even care?"
She shook Elena, and her grip was like steel. Every time she did, Elena's body slammed into the wall. The physical pain was sharp, but it paled in comparison to the emotional agony Elena was experiencing. Each impact seemed to drive home the magnitude of her mistake, the depth of the pain she had inflicted on Lily.
Lehara's words were like daggers, each one hitting its mark and twisting painfully. Elena couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They spilled down her cheeks, hot and bitter. "I care, Lele. I just... I lost control." The words sounded hollow even to her own ears, a pitiful excuse for the hurt she had caused.
Lehara released Elena, stepping back as if Elena's touch burned her. The sudden absence of Lehara's grip left Elena feeling oddly vulnerable, exposed in a way that had nothing to do with physical contact. "First off, don't you call me Lele. Don’t you dare consider yourself familiar with me. I am Apprentice Moonshadow to you, initiate John. Secondly, losing control is no excuse. Lily has always been there for you, and this is how you repay her?"
The formal title stung, a stark reminder of the distance Elena had created between herself and her friends. She felt the bonds of friendship, once relatively strong, now stretched thin and fraying. "Please, Lehara, let-”
Lehara got very quiet when she interrupted Elena, the kind of quiet intensity you get when you’re about to be very dangerous. “Initiate John, you will refer to me by my rank and last name.”
Elena flinched again. “Apprentice Moonshadow, please me find her. I need to apologize to Lily. I need to make it right," Elena pleaded, stepping forward, her voice thick with desperation.
But Lehara held up a hand to stop her, her palm glowing faintly with suppressed magical energy. "That's Apprentice Clementine to you, initiate. And no."
Elena went to go around her and go after Lily, driven by a desperate need to fix what she had broken. But Lehara was faster, more prepared. She pushed Elena back against the wall with a force that spoke of years of training. As soon as Elena impacted the wall again, a dagger was pressed against her throat. The cold steel against her skin was a shock, forcing Elena into stillness.
She didn't move, barely dared to breathe. The blade at her throat was steady, held by a hand that didn't waver. Elena looked into Lehara's eyes, searching for any sign of the friend she once knew. What she saw there was a complex tapestry of emotions – anger, yes, but also hurt, disappointment, and something that looked almost like grief.
"No, John," Lehara said, her voice calmer but no less stern. The blade didn't move from Elena's throat, a constant reminder of the precarious situation she found herself in. "You need to understand something. Everyone in this team has been doing you a favor, supporting you, helping you find your way in this world. And what do you do? You hurt us?”
A tear came to her eye and she wiped it away with her sleeve. “Lily, Marcus, Tobias, Rowan, and even me. We've all been there for you, trying to help you adjust, trying to be your friends. But you... you just lash out and hurt the ones who care about you."
Lehara's words hit Elena like a physical blow, each one sinking deep into her conscience. She felt the enormity of her actions weigh down on her, pressing her further into the darkness of the alley. The faces of her friends flashed through her mind – Lily's tears, Marcus's disappointment, Tobias's shock, Rowan's hurt, and now Lehara's anger. She had wounded them all, and for what? A moment of selfish rage?
"I didn't mean to... I never wanted to hurt anyone," Elena whispered, her voice barely audible. The words felt inadequate, a poor bandage for the wounds she had inflicted.
Lehara shook her head, her expression softening just a fraction. The dagger lowered slightly, no longer pressing against Elena's skin, but still close enough to serve as a warning. "Intentions don't matter if the result is pain, John. You need to figure out how to make things right. Not just with Lily, but with everyone. You hurt the best of us, John. Not only did you hurt the best of us, you did it in the worst possible way. And when someone hurts one of us, they hurt all of us."
The dagger disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, vanishing into some hidden sheath in Lehara's clothing. With a final look of disappointment, Lehara turned on her heels and left the alleyway. Her footsteps echoed in the narrow space, each one driving home the finality of her words.
Elena slumped against the wall, her legs barely able to support her. The weight of her actions, the hurt she had caused, the friendships she had damaged – it all crashed down upon her. She felt hollow, emptied out by the force of Lehara's words and her own crushing guilt.
As if to punctuate the gravity of the situation, Elena's quest log lit up and alerted her that she was just given a new quest. The glowing text seemed to mock her, turning her personal failure into a quantifiable task:
Quest: Friends in Need Description: You made the choice to hurt your friends. Now, it’s time to face the consequences and repair those relationships. It won’t be easy, but if you want them back, you’ll need to put in the effort. Apologies and actions speak louder than words. Tick-tock! Warning: This is a timed quest. Warning: This is a tier quest. Progress: 0 / 5 friendships mended Time Remaining: 1440 hours / 1440 hours Reward: Experience gained, rekindled friendships, and upgraded abilities Note: Congrats, you’ve hit rock bottom with your friends! Time to dust off those groveling skills and maybe bring some snacks. You’ve got a lot of work ahead, so better get charming—before they decide to stay ex-friends.
Her shoulder suddenly stung and burned in pain. She looked down and saw the hilt of a dagger sticking out of her. Lehara had buried a blade in Elena's shoulder, and she didn't even realize Lehara had turned around. The pain was sharp and immediate, a searing reminder of Lehara's skill and speed. And don't get her wrong. It hurt. But considering what Elena had done just earlier, she couldn't say she didn't deserve it.
With a grimace, Elena wrapped her fingers around the hilt. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, then pulled the dagger out of her shoulder with a swift, decisive motion. A fresh wave of pain washed over her, accompanied by a warm trickle of blood. She felt warmth for the first time since her rage on the hilltop, but it was the warmth of her own blood seeping through her clothes. She dropped the dagger, the metallic clang echoing in the quiet alley, and went to move past Lehara a second time.
The world around Elena spun as Lehara's fist connected with her jaw, sending her sprawling onto the cold, damp ground. The impact was explosive, stars bursting behind Elena's eyes as her head snapped back. The taste of copper filled her mouth, and she dimly realized she had bitten her tongue. The pain was a distant echo, drowned out by the deafening ache in her heart. As she struggled to her feet, each movement felt heavier, more labored than the last.
Lehara's eyes, once filled with warmth and camaraderie, now blazed with a fierce intensity. She stood in a fighter's stance, her body coiled with tension, ready to strike again. With each calculated strike, she sought not to inflict unbearable pain, but to deliver enough force to stop Elena. It's okay, Elena thought hazily. She could inflict the pain on herself. She knew she deserved it. The guilt and shame were far more potent than any physical blow.
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And yet even now, Elena couldn't help but notice Lehara's blows were precise and calculated. A jab to the ribs that left Elena gasping for air. A swift kick to the back of her knee that sent her stumbling. An elbow to the solar plexus that drove the wind from her lungs. Lehara was good. The skill gap between the best Elena could hope to muster and Lehara was so wide, Elena didn't even know where Lehara's side was.
But even if the gap was smaller, Elena was so consumed by the overwhelming weight of her guilt and grief, she couldn't bring herself to harm Lehara. Each blow that landed felt like penance, a physical manifestation of the pain she had caused her friends with her cruel words.
Lehara was also Elena's friend. Or at least, she had been. That thought hurt more than any punch or kick. Elena must have been knocked down a dozen times. Each time Lehara knocked her down, Elena found herself rising more slowly. Her body protested, muscles screaming in agony, but she forced herself up each time. She heard herself begging as she got up, each time pleading for forgiveness.
"Please, Lehara," Elena gasped, spitting out blood. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
But Lehara's expression remained hard, her fists clenched. "Sorry doesn't fix what you've done, John," she spat, landing another blow that sent Elena reeling. Each fist came in hard, and every time Elena got back up, the next hit came in harder.
It was like the emotional turmoil was sapping Elena's physical strength in the form of words. The images of the pain she had caused her friend flashed through her mind like a recurring nightmare. Lily's tear-stained face. The hurt in Lehara's eyes. The disappointment radiating from the entire team. A sick part of Elena hoped that by enduring this trial by combat, it would give her even a small chance to prove she didn't mean what she said.
At one point as Lehara hit her, and a loud crack reverberated through the alley. She saw Lehara's own body flinch from her impact with Elena. For a brief moment, Lehara's mask of anger slipped, and she almost looked sorrowful. But when Elena got back up, the moment passed and the barrage continued.
It was around the twentieth time that Elena's vision grew blurred, her surroundings fading into a hazy, dreamlike state. The sounds of the world around her seemed to grow distant, as if she was being swallowed by a thick, impenetrable fog. But Elena couldn't fight back. This was her fault to begin with. She was the asshole who decided to hurt a friend just because it would make her feel better.
Elena lost track of how many times Lehara beat her down. Her body screamed in protest. Yet, through the veil of it all, she felt the profound disappointment in her betrayal emanating from Lehara. Lehara wasn't just angry, she was disappointed in Elena. And that hurt far worse than any physical blow.
"Why won't you fight back?" Lehara demanded, her voice a mix of frustration and something else - concern, perhaps? "Defend yourself!"
But Elena couldn't. She wouldn't. Each blow felt deserved, each burst of pain a reminder of the hurt she had inflicted on her friends. She stumbled, her legs barely able to support her weight. Her left eye was swollen shut, and she could feel blood trickling from a cut above her right eyebrow. Her ribs ached with every breath, and she was pretty sure at least one was cracked.
At one point, Lehara's voice broke through the fog of pain. She pleaded with Elena to please care for herself and stay down. But Elena couldn't. She had to endure this. She had to prove... something. To Lehara, to herself, to the universe. She knew she was a terrible person and had to truly show her sincerity.
And then, moments after feeling her head crack against the pavement one final time, it all went black. The last thing Elena saw before consciousness fled was Lehara's face, a complex mix of emotions playing across it - anger, disappointment, and something that looked almost like regret.
Elena didn't even wake up in the morning to a splash of water. Instead, she drifted in a sea of darkness, her mind replaying the events of the night in an endless, torturous loop. The fight, the pain, the guilt - it all swirled together in a maelstrom of regret and self-recrimination.
When consciousness finally returned, it came slowly, painfully. Each breath was a struggle, each slight movement a new discovery in agony. But with the pain came clarity. Elena knew she had a long road ahead of her. Apologies to make, trust to rebuild, friendships to mend.
The morning light filtered weakly through the window, casting a pale glow over the room. Elena blinked, her eyes struggling to adjust as the haze of sleep lifted. The dull ache in her body reminded her of the previous night's events, and the guilt and regret returned with a vengeance. As her vision cleared, she realized Agatha was sitting on the edge of her bed, her face a mix of concern and confusion.
Agatha reached out and gently touched Elena's arm, her voice soft but firm. "Elena," she said softly, and it felt good to have her call Elena by her name. "What happened to you? I found you outside last night, a bloody mess. You were half-conscious and just kept repeating that you were sorry. What did you do?" Elena winced at the memory, the events of the night playing back in her mind like a nightmare. "Agatha, I... I messed up. I hurt Lila, and that means I messed up with the whole team." Her voice was hoarse, her throat dry.
Agatha's eyes widened slightly, and she frowned. "What do you mean you hurt Lily? What exactly did you do?"
Elena took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Lila was just trying to help me, and I... I lashed out at her. I said some really cruel things. Things I didn't mean, but I was so angry. I called her so many things. Lehara found me afterward and threw me against a wall. She told me how everyone has been trying to help me and how I've just been spitting in their faces."
Agatha sighed, her expression turning even more somber. "Elena, you can't keep doing this to yourself and to others. We're all here to support you, but you have to let us in. You have to let us help you."
Elena's voice came out weakly and accompanied by wet eyes that refused to give any tears. "How?"
Agatha looked like she wanted to say something but closed her mouth. Elena looked away, ashamed of her actions. "I know, Agatha. I just... I don't know how to handle everything. It's all too much, and I keep messing up."
Agatha placed a comforting hand on Elena's shoulder. "We all make mistakes, Elena. What's important is that you learn from them and make amends. You need to apologize to Lily and Lele. Show them that you understand what you did wrong and that you're willing to change."
"Agatha, I..." Elena felt the words catch in her throat. Agatha just sat there and rubbed Elena's arm. Elena couldn't ask her outright. But maybe she could lay the groundwork and let Agatha help her that way. "Can I ask you a question?"
Agatha just nodded and continued to rub Elena's arm. Elena probably looked like a wreck still. "You're a cook. You cook so many wonderful dishes. Everyone you know knows you can cook. Your best dish is a nearly infamous Gromnash Stew. You've made this dish basically every day for your tavern. And then one day you're teleported to a world where there is no Gromnash to make stew. Not only that, but all the foods are different. Spices, flavors, palettes. Everyone in this new world tells you that you're a terrible cook. Deep down, you know you're a cook, you know you do a good job at cooking. But day after day you hear you're terrible. Day after day you try and make yourself see yourself as a cook. But everyone else scoffs at your dishes. And then one day you're looking in the mirror and realize you even find yourself sometimes agreeing with them."
Agatha just looked at Elena, and understood she wasn't talking about cooking, which was a good step. Elena continued. "Then one day maybe a month or two into it, you're sitting with your friends and they casually tell you that 'Well, it's a shame we can't eat as we all know you're a terrible cook. You know, with your terrible cooking. Maybe we can go somewhere where the cooking isn't as terrible as yours.'"
Elena looked up at her. “So what would you do?”
Agatha nodded along and took a moment to think before responding. "I mean I'd probably be upset. But what if I am a terrible cook?"
Elena felt the frustration rise in her even now, as hurt as she was. With Agatha knowing Elena wasn't talking about cooking, she was still doing it? It kind of pissed Elena off. "But I'm not—"
Agatha continued as if Elena hadn't spoken. "Don't get me wrong, I might be a great cook back on my planet. Here I know I'm a phenomenal cook. But there? There I might actually BE terrible. If I were to go and cook something on that new planet, and my cooking comes out all burnt or it's completely inedible then to everyone else I'm a bad cook. Even worse if my body changed to not give me the capability to ever be a good cook." She cupped Elena's cheek and rubbed it with her fingers. A few strands of hair covered Elena's eyes, and those too Agatha moved.
Elena was so exhausted, she could barely hear her own words. "But what if I'm starting to see myself as a girl?" The pretense of her story completely gone.
"Well, back on your planet I'm sure you're the manliest guy ever. But here? There's a reason why you're starting to see yourself as a girl." Elena felt like a small child in bed, their mother leaning over them as Agatha rubbed her face.
Elena started to see tears in Agatha's eyes as they glazed over, probably picturing a painful old memory. "I was told a long time ago 'When life gives you thorns, find a way to weave them into a crown or forever bleed'.” She waited a moment and Elena realized it was probably something similar to “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”
Agatha waited for realization to sink in before she continued. “Look, I can't imagine how terrible it would feel to constantly be told I'm a terrible cook. But I am a terrible cook. The best thing I can do is accept it. And if I got pissed off every time someone told me I was terrible, while mentally telling myself I’m good? It’s going to cause problems for myself. Especially when over time I start knowing I am terrible. And I should probably have taken some time to talk to people who might have helped me realize I was terrible, or at least helped me learn how to work with my terrible skills. But being a terrible cook and lashing out at folks that are gently trying to tell you that you're a terrible cook isn't the right thing to do either. I'd be pretty heartless if I did."
Elena looked down, ashamed. “Trust me, I know I’m a heartless dem-”
Agatha lifted Elena's head up. "Elena, you are not heartless. You are a good person. Anybody would be lucky to know you even for a few minutes. My husband knew you for a few minutes and you saved him and threatened to burn down the world if we didn't save him too."
Her words confused Elena. "Hold on, I remember saving him, but I'm not certain what you mean about burning the world down."
Agatha explained. "Elena,When you first wandered into my bar you were basically carrying my husband. You nearly broke my door bringing him here and when you did finally release him over to us, you basically threatened everyone in the room to save him or else." Agatha shook her head, and her pride glowed like a physical light.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't threaten anyone." Elena said, rather confused.
"Elena, you commanded such an air of authority walking in here. You might not realize this, but when someone went to take Gareth from your arms to lay him on a table, you growled at them. You also scowled at them and looked like you were deciding to hand him over or bite their head off."
Elena looked away a bit embarassed. Agatha continued to rub her cheek. When Elena looked back at her, Agatha smiled. "Like I told Lele. You're a good person. You have a good heart. I think the real problem is this here," she said as she tapped Elena's head. "I would be willing to bet my life on the crown that you probably doubt every move you make. Every step you take. Even now you probably feel more terrible about how you're a bad person than what you can do to fix it."
Which was true, but it was kind of annoying for Agatha to call her out like that. So instead she nodded slowly, feeling the weight of Agatha's words. "I will, Agatha. I'll make it right."
Agatha looked down at Elena, still smiling softly. "That's not what I said."
Elena looked back at her and nodded sheepishly. "Yeah."
Agatha smiled and gently cupped her cheek. "Look, I'll try to tell Lele why you feel you're...a bad cook."
"Terrible," Elena corrected her.
"Terrible cook," Agatha smiled again. "But you need to do a lot before you're ready. You need to think of a way to make it up to Lilly. You don't realize it, but you cut her with your words deeper than you meant to. You need to find a way to make it up to the team. You also need to work on yourself." Her face took on that of a stern mother talking with her daughter trying to whip her into shape. "And you need to stop internalizing all of…this. I don't care if you need to talk to friends, talk to your teachers or come talk to me. But you will start talking."
"Yes, Ma'am," Elena replied.
Agatha gave her a small, encouraging smile. "Good. Now, let's get you cleaned up and ready to face the day. I'm going to give you a good bath and you're going to scrub all that blood off of you." Elena raised an eyebrow. Instead of speaking, Agatha looked at her hand and showed Elena her own blood.
"You have a lot of work to do, but I know you can do it," Agatha said, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination.
Elena nodded, feeling a strange mix of emotions wash over her. The weight of her actions still pressed heavily on her shoulders, but Agatha's words had sparked a tiny flame of hope within her. She knew the path ahead would be difficult, filled with apologies, self-reflection, and hard work. But for the first time since her outburst, Elena felt like she might have a chance to make things right.
As Agatha helped her out of bed, Elena winced at the pain that shot through her body. The physical reminders of her confrontation with Lehara were still fresh, but they paled in comparison to the emotional wounds she had inflicted on her friends. She knew that healing those wounds would take more than just words; it would require action, patience, and a genuine commitment to change.
While Agatha prepared the bath, Elena's mind raced with thoughts of Lila, Lehara, and the rest of the team. She tried to imagine what she could possibly say or do to make amends, but everything seemed inadequate. The enormity of the task ahead was daunting, but Elena knew she had to try. She couldn't bear the thought of losing the friendships she had formed, the support system that had become so crucial to her in this strange new world.
As she lowered herself into the warm water, Elena let out a small gasp as it stung her cuts and bruises. The physical pain, however, was oddly grounding. It reminded her of the reality of her situation and the consequences of her actions. As she began to scrub away the dried blood and grime, Elena found herself hoping that she could wash away her mistakes just as easily. But she knew it wouldn't be that simple.
The quest notification lingered in the back of her mind, a constant reminder of the challenge that lay ahead. Five relationships to repair, each one damaged by her thoughtless words and actions. The ticking clock added an extra layer of pressure, but Elena tried to push that anxiety aside. She needed to focus on genuine change and heartfelt apologies, not on rushing through a checklist.
As she cleaned herself, Elena's thoughts drifted to the deeper issues at play. Her struggle with identity, the constant battle between who she was and who others perceived her to be, had reached a boiling point. She realized that until she could come to terms with herself, she would always be at risk of lashing out at those around her.
The warm water began to cool, mirroring the fading heat of her anger from the previous night. In its place, a resolute determination began to take hold. Elena knew that the path to redemption would be long and difficult, but she was ready to take the first steps. As she stepped out of the bath and began to dry herself, she made a silent promise – to herself, to her friends, and to this new world that had become her home – that she would do whatever it took to make things right.