Fey and party were hiking through the narrow mountain trails that traversed the Oré mountain range. Flying through the area was technically an option, but the lack of easy landing spots in the case of bad weather or another emergency, combined with nearly constant mist that made visibility quite limited and likely fatal consequences of a fall made travelling on foot the wiser decision. (Which honestly makes it surprising that that’s what they ended up deciding on.)

Hiking was not on Fey’s list of favourite things to do. It could be worse, she reflected, I could be doing this in real life. With her stamina up to nearly 300 at this point due to her abuse of the Self-Haste ability, every step felt effortless and she was as fresh after several hours of steep climbs and descents as she had been when they had first set out.

Her eyes slid over to where Leandriel was hiking beside her. It could be a lot worse, she thought with a hidden smile. There was a natural grace to the way the angel moved, a harmony of strength, coordination, and precision that made even the simple act of walking beautiful to watch. She was not sure most people would notice it, but in the world of martial arts, she would bet on someone like him winning just by the way he walked into the room.

She jumped guiltily when his voice slid into her mind through a private audio channel. “Is something wrong?” he asked, focusing his thoughts to talk without verbalizing.

Fey relaxed at not having been caught ogling like a school-age fangirl. “I’m fine,” she replied the same way, letting her hidden smile broaden into a real one as she met his gaze. “Not a huge fan of hiking.”

The way his expression grew concerned at her minor dissatisfaction reminded Fey that she needed to be on constant guard to avoid turning into a spoiled brat in the face of Leandriel’s ready willingness to indulge her every whim. “If I switch avatars quickly, I should be able to fly us over…”

Her eyes crinkled in amusement. “Let’s not violate any rules, shall we?” She assumed the reason he had an alternate avatar capped at her level was because he was not supposed to massively unbalance the game by throwing his work avatar’s abilities into their guild activities. Given the slowing of her level progression as the game’s experience curve became ever steeper, it would be quite a while before she reached level 100 and Leandriel’s casual avatar would regain its angel wings.

“Can you two stop making googly eyes at each other?” Sirena complained, hiking a few steps ahead of them (and giving a good impression of having eyes in the back of her head). “It’s painfully obvious when you’re being all mushy through PMs.”

Fey grimaced at the mermaid. “It’s all your fault we’re going this slowly, so don’t ruin my fun.” With the exception of Sirena, the party members were all able to run the whole distance with minimal breaks for rest.

Sirena wrinkled her nose. “If the choice is between speedrunning a mountain range or watching you two basking in romantic bliss… Give me a sec. Let’s see…”

Sirena began tinkering with her spell menu. Once a mage had achieved a certain level of concentration, magic power, and elemental mastery, it became possible to craft original spells rather than learning presets, the spell limits determined by their magic abilities and its cost automatically calculated by the game system based on the scale and magnitude of the desired effect. Having received a near cheat-level boost from wearing an entire set of equipment custom-made by Caleb, Sirena had reached beginner water mastery and dove into the spell designer, looking for a way to increase her travel speed.

“Hmm. This should work.”

Fey waited for a minute after Sirena activated the magic, growing nervous as the magic potential continued to grow without manifesting. “Uh, what exactly are you casting?”

“I summoned a small tsunami[i] to carry me down the trail.”

“You what?”

“Here it comes!” Sirena announced cheerfully. A monstrous column of water appeared, carrying the mermaid high into the air as it built and built, declaring its presence as an unnatural disaster of natural disaster proportions.

The group had seconds to figure out how to survive the situation. “Boris, full speed Charge!” Fey yelled, pushing the boar into action. Responding to the urgency in her voice, the boar broke into a gallop, accelerating at a supernatural rate that soon overtook Fey’s top sprint.

“Keep going!” Fey yelled as Boris pulled past her, carrying the other Feypets to what was hopefully safety.

Jumping off the path, Fey activated her wings and clawed for height, turning back to survey the rest of the party. Leandriel appeared to be safe by virtue of just being behind the giant wave and its future path. Blade was running along the trail at his top speed, but it was woefully inadequate to escape the oncoming wave.

“Stand your ground!” she yelled at him. “Iron Stance!”

Skidding to a stop, Blade turned and summoned his huge tower shield just in time to plant it into the ground as the magic let go of the giant water column to let it fall in an inexorable rush forward and downward. The warrior’s outline glowed faintly red as his ability fought the deluge to keep him on his feet, growing weaker and weaker as the rush of water continued far past the single impact the ability was designed to withstand. It gave out just as the last part of the wave passed over him, leaving him sprawled on his back with the breath knocked out of him but miraculously alive and still on the trail.

First potential casualty saved, Fey turned her eyes to Boris, biting her lip as the wave closed the lead the boar had, trying to gauge if his ongoing acceleration would be enough to let him make it out unscathed. She swooped alongside the galloping pet, looking for anything she could do to help, but there was simply no way she could support the boar’s weight if he were swept off the mountain.

He’s not going to make it! She panicked, looking around for anything, anything that she could use to push Boris faster or slow down the incoming wave.

The next few moments were a jumbled blur that Fey slowly pieced together in the aftermath of the water roaring past her.

First, a confident squeak that could only have come from Amethyst.

A grunt of acknowledgement before Boris launched himself straight off the trail as it curved away from him, his forward momentum carrying him straight into the side of the adjacent mountain.

A cacophony of sharp cracks that must have been sequential Whip activations, too fast to see or count.

And miraculously, all of the Feypets ensconced in a small pocket in the side of the mountain that had not existed a moment before, covered in rock dust but otherwise quite unharmed.

With the simple party message, the sniper streaked after the runaway mermaid, barely visible in the air with all her cloaking abilities activated. Two minutes later, an indignant Sirena’s voice ran through the party chat.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“You are so dead, Sirena!” Fey yelled, not bothering to avoid yelling for real while sending through the audio channel. She landed on the trail and Leandriel jogged up to meet her.

“If I log out and back in, will my pets reappear beside me?” she asked, unable to think of another way to free her pets from their current predicament. Boris certainly could not make the distance he had jumped from a standstill, and the pocket Amethyst had carved out was barely big enough for the boar to stand, let alone get a running start.

“You would have to move a bit farther away, but yes, that would work,” Leandriel answered.

“Oh good. I have something just down the trail that I need to kill.”

Blade limped his way over to join them, by far the most battered from the incident. He had dried his armour by virtue of using Ex-quip, but his hair was bedraggled and wet. “Is she getting crazier or something?” he asked somewhat plaintively.

“She was always this crazy, just less powerful,” Fey muttered darkly, jogging her way down the trail, intent on making Sirena regret ever having such a stupid idea.

The party reunited quite a ways down the trail where the magical wave had finally run out, a pouting Sirena sitting on the side of the road while Mimi silently accepted thanks from a pair of players she had saved from the “freak wave”, as the players were calling it. Next to the mermaid, Squishy floated as inscrutably as usual, raising the question of what exactly the jellyfish’s top movement speed was.

Sirena’s staff was safely in Mimi’s hands, depriving the mage of the power she needed to repeat the custom spell.

Fey gratefully accepted custody of the crystal rod, aware of how much more out of control the incident would have become without Mimi’s usual frightening competency to smooth things over.

She smacked Sirena’s hand with a stinging rap of the staff when the mermaid reached for it.

“Hey!” Sirena said indignantly, rubbing her injured hand.

“You’ve proven that you can’t have nice things,” Fey retorted.

“You can’t do that! I’m going to report a theft,” Sirena threatened.

“I think any moderator who reviewed this case would agree that this is legitimate self-defence,” Fey said, not in the least concerned.

“You nearly killed me,” Blade complained, both his feelings and his body lightly hurt by the lack of consideration.

“You were behind me when I started casting,” Sirena pointed out. “What made you start running after Boris, anyway?”

Saving Blade from having to admit that he had been controlled by blind herd instinct at the time, Fey whapped Sirena with the staff at her lack of repentance.

“Oww! Stop hitting me with my own staff!”

“Start showing proper judgement and consideration!” Fey retorted. “How could you possibly think that tsunami is a proper form of transportation?”

It was at this point that Magic helpfully chimed in. “Sirena can sit on Boris,” he pointed out in a very reasonable, cute voice.

All eyes turned to the iron boar, who had been safely resummoned to the right side of the mountains by a quick log out and in.

“…That literally did not occur to me,” Fey said in a voice that indicated she was deeply reflecting on her own stupidity. Despite the boar’s considerable size and strength, she frequently thought of him as if he were still miniature, a convenient ride for her small pets but not a large rider.[ii]

“Did you not equip Boris with a saddle for the purpose of riding?” Leandriel asked in puzzlement, looking at the boar’s back, which clearly had a seat for a humanoid rider.

Fey did not have an intelligent answer for him. “…No I didn’t, actually. I just wanted to make it clear he wasn’t a wild monster.”

“Ah.” Leandriel’s voice was so carefully neutral that it only highlighted Fey’s inability to notice obvious things. (That being said, Fey’s inability to notice obvious things is the main source of drama in this story, so can we consider that a bad thing?)

Fey banged her forehead on his shoulder. “I know I’m an idiot, okay? Get in the stupid saddle, Sirena.”

With her staff still confiscated, Sirena settled on the boar’s broad back with the dignity of an offended cat. The glooms hopped and flowed around to make room, some of them ending up clinging to Boris’ sides in a way that did not make sense if one assumed they were bound by the laws of gravity.

With this arrangement, Blade functionally became the slowest member of the party. They broke into a fast jog, one that had the human warrior breathing hard and digging into his energy reserves while Fey, Leandriel, and Mimi looked annoyingly fresh and were able to chat comfortably. (Well, Fey did most of the chatting while the other two nodded, but they all could chat if they were so inclined.)

Sirena watched Blade huffing and puffing with amusement. “Want to join me?” she asked, patting the saddle next to her.

“No thanks,” he muttered, competitive pride (so far) holding the edge over exhaustion.

“Stop taunting Blade and make some fast-making music,” Fey called out.

“Give me my staff back,” said Sirena.

“You don’t need your staff to use bard skills.”

“I want it back,” the mermaid insisted.

“Oh, I’ll give it back,” Fey said, raising the staff threateningly over her head.

Wrinkling her nose, Sirena started playing a fast song for a speed buff through her telepathy. “So violent,” she complained with her physical voice, having no difficulty controlling her two ‘voices’ at the same time.

Fey would feel guiltier if her pets had not come close to dying. “Violence may not always be the best solution, but it’s almost always a solution,” she said cheerfully, twirling the staff with a level of dexterity she only had in the game.

***

Leander was waiting for his flight back home at an airport terminal when he received a message from an unfamiliar contact. Opening it, he was confused to find a lengthy text document attached, titled only “Handbook”.

Suspicious, he ran it through a virus scanner, which flashed a green go-ahead.

Giving in to his curiosity, he opened the file. It turned out to be a neatly formatted document complete with chapter headings, bulleted lists, and even a glossary.

He scanned the headings with increasing confusion: Biographical Information, Hobbies, Likes/Dislikes, Habits/Quirks… It was not until he scrolled down to ‘Gift Ideas and Suggested Dates’ that he began to have an inkling of what he was reading.

Opening the first section showed Arwyn’s full name, birthday, height, and blood type, along with a small family tree of her immediate relatives. This was followed by a detailed resume of her entire education and work experience.

Skimming through the rest of the sections, he found equally detailed summaries of her personality and unique quirks – complete with “suggested hacks” to deal with every situation. (Overall, there was nothing in the document that a good best friend would not know, but the way it was so neatly compiled and clearly laid out made it quite creepy.)

Thinking about who might have his phone number and also knew Arwyn very well narrowed his suspect list down to one.

Leander: Sirena?

Leah: It’s ‘Leah’ in real life. Good luck! I highlighted my suggested first date, but you should hang out with her frequently outside of formal dates.

Leander was awash in a strange mix of burning curiosity to study the handbook in detail, guilt that he perhaps was not supposed to be gaining information on Arwyn in this manner, and nervous anticipation at the idea of going on a date.

Hoping for more structure, he asked,

Leander: Hang out where?

Leah: Your place? Her place? You’re both adults without a curfew. Go wild.

Leah: Actually, I guess you do have a curfew. Don’t let her be late logging in!

Leah: Just kidding, make her as late as you want. See management tip #4.

Leander referenced the handbook: Ignore her whenever she’s being weirdly nervous.

Leander: Are you sure…?

Leah: This is very Arwyn-specific advice. She is very much someone who would get angry and punch you if you did anything she found truly objectionable.

Leander found it reassuring that Arwyn was so straightforward with her likes and dislikes, and Leah’s confidence that that held true even in the grip of nerves further set his mind at ease.

Leander: I will show her this document before I read it.

Leah: *sigh* so honourable. Have at it, she’ll verify that it’s reliable.

Leander: Thanks, Leah. I will keep your advice in mind.

Leah: Ganbatte/jiayou/fighting[iii] and all that!

Leander closed his display and closed his eyes, reminding himself that he really did need to wait before reading the tempting document in his grasp.

***

Arwyn was headed to the airport to pick Leander up. It was an entirely unnecessary task – she certainly was not any help with moving luggage around – but she wanted to see him, and she wanted him to know that she wanted to see him. It still made her cringe to think back to their disastrous first real-life encounter, and she was eager to replace it with far more positive experiences.

Leander’s flight arrived exactly on time, a mundane bit of chance that seemed magical in its ordinariness. It took a while for the passengers to make their way through customs but soon, families and friends were reuniting around the luggage carousels, people jostling for position and looking for luggage carts, the previously quiet area now bustling with frenetic activity.

Arwyn spotted Leander as soon as he came within eyeshot, his height, posture, and easy stride unmistakeable. She watched him scan the crowds, gaze intent, methodically moving towards the back, where she stood out of the way of the people fishing for their luggage.

She felt the connection like a palpable weight when his eyes met hers. The way his face broke into a smile made her feel strangely buoyant, most of her nerves falling away.

“Hello,” he said once he had made his way across the floor.

“Hi,” she answered, their habitual greeting grounding her in the familiar. “Did you check any luggage?”

He shook his head. “This is it,” he said, indicating a slim backpack and small wheeled carry-on.

Arwyn knew she was being weird as they made their way out of the airport and hailed a self-driving taxi. The automated vehicle had no listening devices, no reason for them to stay silent as it sped towards Leander’s apartment. Their easy conversation and easy silences in Fantasia did not seem to automatically translate to the real world. Or maybe I’m just imagining it, she thought, peeking at Leander’s easy expression and relaxed posture. I’m definitely overthinking it. Now I’m thinking about overthinking. She took in a short breath and sighed.

Glancing over at her, Leander reached out and grasped her hand, breaking the odd tension that had arisen from the careful space between them. She instantly relaxed, returning his grip with equal warmth.

“Leah told me I should ignore it when you are being nervous,” he ventured.

“She’s probably right,” Arwyn said, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes.

“She also sent me a handbook.”

Arwyn’s eyes popped back open. “A what?”

Leander pulled up the relevant document on a holographic display and she leaned in to read, feeling a slow flush rise up her neck as she scanned the very detailed, mostly accurate, and somewhat unflattering summary of who she was.

Leander could have very easily sent Leah’s file to Arwyn’s phone, but pulling it up on his arm device had drawn Arwyn very neatly into the circle of his arms in order to view the screens at the correct angle, and he much preferred it this way.

“It’s not wrong,” was her final verdict, voice somewhat embarrassed. “Maybe a little skewed by her perspective, but not wrong.”

He tightened his arms when she made to lean back, grinning as she gradually realized his trap.

His heart melted when she relaxed against his chest, the trust implicit in the action a rare and beautiful treasure.

“I have not read it,” he murmured into her ear.

“Why not?”

“I wanted to make sure there was nothing in there that you did not want me to know.”

She shook her head. “You can read it.”

“Thank you.”

“For what? Leah wrote it.”

He kissed her on the cheek. “For being you.”

[i] A tsunami is specifically an ocean or sea wave caused by tectonic movement such as an earthquake or volcanic explosion and is used incorrectly in this sentence given the party’s lack of proximity to a large body of water and magical origin of the wave.

[ii] Functional fixedness is a type of cognitive bias where one sees objects as only working for one particular function. A classic example of this is Duncker’s candle experiment, in which participants were given a candle, thumb tacks, and a box, then asked to attach the candle to the wall so that wax would not drip onto the floor when lit. Participants who were provided an empty box were more likely to see it as a potential tool to solve the problem, while participants given a box full of tacks were more likely to see it as simply a container for the tacks and took significantly longer to complete the task.

[iii] These are expressions in Japanese, Chinese, and Korean, respectively, that express similar sentiments to imply working hard and having perseverance to achieve a goal, roughly translated to “do your best”, without the connotation of the expectation of failure as in the English. The author was too lazy to look up why the Korean expression is an English word and if there was a Korean phrase that was replaced in recent times.