I pulled back, catching her chin to look at her. Her eyes were heavy-lidded—desperate. Hungry.

  I couldn’t lie to myself. At that moment, with the fight still buzzing in my blood, fucking sounded great. If she’d jumped on me before I was clean and calmed? Yeah. The disgusting truth was, I probably would’ve gone with it. Hard. I was grateful she wanted to be clean first.

  The hot spring water rippled around us. A mote of sunlight from between the leaves caught and reflected into my eyes, blinding me for a moment. I blinked it away.

  “Elora, you don’t know anything about me,” I murmured, disliking the heat in my voice.

  As usual, my body was screaming GOOO. She smelled so good, felt so soft, and clearly wanted me. Never was I so grateful for a high WILL stat.

  I held the soap above the surface, still too dirty to let go of it. I couldn’t unwind her limbs from me. She’d slithered a leg between mine, so she knew what was going on. Her gaze searched mine. She bit her lip, and it quivered slightly when she finally spoke.

  “I do know you. I know your heart, Dathai. You’re the kindest, most steadfast man in this godforsaken city. I think I—”

  “I’m not,” I protested. Had to cut her off before she went further. Steadfast, maybe? Kindest? No. Man? Was I? What made a man? What made a woman? I hadn’t been a man before. Now?

  I had no idea what I was, in this skin, or outside it.

  “I’m not what you’re looking at,” I said. But, as I said it, I wasn’t sure that was true, either. I’d sure as hell been becoming the half-orc fighter I’d chosen. After a few more years, would I even remember my old name? I barely remembered my real face, which seemed crazy, given it wasn’t that long ago when I looked in a mirror.

  She laughed where she sat on my thigh, arms still around my neck, damp auburn curling around her face. Her prominent ears spoke for themselves. There were no elves on Earth.

  “I mean, I know you’re not, either. But…” I hesitated. “It’s more than that. Before Archive and Convergent City, I wasn’t a man.”

  Her green eyes flickered down and then up again, smirking. “Were you an adult?”

  “Well, yeah,” I mumbled. No shock or horror from her. This was Elora, after all.

  “Works for me,” she said, leaning in to brush her lips along my unbruised cheek.

  “Elora,” I growled, sharply enough to stop her.

  She sat back and searched my gaze again.

  “I can’t. I won’t ruin our group with this. I don’t even…” Words failed. I wasn’t ready to deal with this. Maybe I wouldn’t ever be. Most days, my mind and body were a great team. This was different.

  “Jake and Fig are all over eachother, and you haven’t said a thing about that. It’s not for the group,” she said, frowning. She searched my gaze.

  I didn’t look away, but I also didn’t relent my silent stillness. Despite the blood between my ears screaming to have at her. I didn’t let myself think about what I’d do.

  A glimmer of frustration sparked and faded in her eyes. She sighed and smiled. She bopped my nose with her fingertip and slipped off my thigh. Thank Tan’Fukshan. Her being there was driving me low-key insane.

  “You don’t even know how you feel,” she finished my sentence, patting my chest with the kind of understanding that melted my resolve. Just a little. “I know you, Dathai. Believe it.”

  I got her. I knew them all. Jake, my loyal brother. Akilah, my sharp-eyed sister. Elora, the dreamer who saw everyone’s heart. Even Fig and Frag had started to grow on me. This last fight made it real. I truly cared about the robot boy and the songbird.

  I sighed and finished washing my wounds. Elora drifted to the deep side of the spring to lounge on what appeared to be a rock ledge. I snuck a glance her way. She watched me, hair drifting around her shoulders in the water.

  Forward motion. I couldn’t let this trip me up. I forced my mind to change gears.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The Arena had clues to the Unbound status. Ashwynn had admitted as much, though I hadn’t found any word of it when I asked around the Labyrinth street market. If we could Unbound—Unbind? From Convergent City, we could reach the Gateway. Beyond that, return to our lives.

  Then I wouldn’t have to be confused anymore, which was—wow. Selfish as hell. Not the first time I’d been selfish about it, I guess.

  I finished scrubbing and swam through the dappled light, holding out the soap. She took it and gestured to her ledge, then leaned to pour me a cup of wine. I sat close, but not too close. Not because I was afraid of her. Pfft. Nah.

  She handed me the cup. I took a slow sip, the complex flavors of elvish wine lingering on my tongue.

  “Ever dated a girl?”

  I coughed the wine in a spray over the pool. Wiped my face with the back of my hand. “No.”

  “Got hit on by girls before all this?” She gestured at my body. Her fae nature showed in her barely contained laughter.

  “Actually, yeah.” I shrugged. Where I lived, it wasn’t that strange.

  “Dated guys?”

  I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the rock. Arm draped along the edge, the cup dangling in my fingertips I glanced at her briefly. I wasn’t going to take another sip until she got this out of her system.

  “Some,” I admitted. “I’m not good at relationships.”

  Elora’s smile grew Cheshire Cat wide. “I can imagine. You’re not sweet. But you are kind.”

  “Sure,” I muttered. I didn’t think so, but whatever.

  She tapped a wet finger on my hand to make me look at her again. Her playful look had faded into seriousness. “I’m here. For whatever you need. Remember that.”

  “Because I saved you from Ashwynn’s trap?”

  “Because you’re Dathai,” she said, leaning against the stone, tilting her head back.

  “What’s your real name?” I asked, staring into my cup.

  “Mark.”

  My head whipped around. I hadn’t even started to unpack that before I noticed her hand over her mouth, eyes glittering with amusement. I snorted and grinned.

  “Mary,” she said, cupping her chin in the universal ‘I’m adorable’ gesture.

  I broke out in a chuckle.

  She’d brought her legs up to rest her chin on her knees, elvish green eyes on me. “What’s your real name?”

  My name. I’d thought about it often enough to keep from forgetting it. It felt heavy on my lips, alien when I said it.

  “Ceridwen. Dwen for short. Back then.” In that other life.

  “Oh! That’s so pretty!” Elora said, smiling.

  My lips twitched. I shrugged. “Yeah. Not a lot of Ceridwens out there.”

  “Why did you choose Dathai?”

  I thought back to the whitespace and that first day. “Sounded cool. Means My Fist in Orcish. Funny coincidence.” I paused, tilting my head. “Why did you choose the name Elora?”

  “Duh. The movie Willow. I’m a huge nerd,” Elora said.

  So. Mary. But to me, she remained Elora.

  It was weird. Weirder than Jake, because Jake had used his real name when we met.

  I nodded and drained my cup in a gulp. With a splash, I climbed out fast and threw my clothes on straight from inventory, then went to clean my armor. I’d wanted to talk about the old life so badly, for so long, and now? I couldn’t. Didn’t want to. I made myself busy.

  We made it to Tanglepot before the others. I tried not to sit there like a sulking mute, but I didn’t know what to say.

  Elora, thankfully, still had that easy, unshakable vibe. She was tough to rattle, most of the time. Her grace made awkward feel optional. She studied the menu like nothing was weird, and I realized it wasn’t her. She got me. The discomfort was all mine.

  I let my gaze drift up the rafters. Twisting ashwood, sleepy vines, floating globes carrying lazy fire spirits. As night deepened, they’d multiply like flickering stars. A sprite zipped by, wings buzzing like an angry wasp. I instinctively leaned into the table, glancing around.

  Elora chuckled and sipped her iced tea. “Why do you hate them so much?”

  “Petal Dew’s fault, but they’re all drama queens,” I grumbled.

  Jake ducked through the entrance and wove between the tables. He dropped down to sit beside me, greeting me with a shoulder bump. I sucked in a short breath and smiled dangerously. He couldn’t see my wounds, wasn’t his fault. Fig slid next to him, while Frag sat beside Elora, and Akilah took the last spot at our now crowded table.

  “Seriously? You guys…” was the first thing Akilah said. “I did not like that at all. That Arena shit? I could just—wither something.”

  She flexed her fingers and scowled, every line in her face spelling out what she felt when we all disappeared. She clucked her tongue and side-eyed the room, as if the System was hiding behind a potted plant. In fact, it was all around us.

  “We thought maybe you were over-leveled,” I said, but she nodded. She’d already figured it out, of course.

  A sprite server buzzed over to take our orders, and I offered to pay for the team. I had wealth after that game. Ten diamonds? Okay, maybe not wealth, but I had spare gems and no plans for them. Yet.

  The night blurred with conversation and food. Akilah suggested the possibility that I might not end up in the next arena fight since I gained level 10, and our group would be further split up. That hit hard.

  Even with food and banter, anxiety sat on me like a harbinger, promising disaster. I wouldn’t be there to back them. Protect them. I’d known how Akilah felt, but pretty soon I might be in the same situation. I hated the idea.

  After we ate, we broke off for the night in the usual pairs. Jake and Fig, Frag and Akilah, and Elora and me.

  Back at the Heartland gates, I said the world’s weirdest goodnight and bailed.

  If I had pockets, my hands would have been deep in them, head down as I walked, trying not to think about the changes coming. The change I resisted, the changes I wanted, the changes in our dynamics.

  “Hey.” Elora’s voice cut the night.

  I turned to see Elora, still standing at the entrance to Heartland Park. I didn’t realize she’d watched me walk away. Just an elf, standing alone in the light of three moons. Small. Soft. Braver than me.

  “Don’t disappear again.”

  I nodded.

  But I made no promises.

  -ARCHIVE-