Chương 6: Atop the mountains

Using Breakstep to launch herself through the sky, it didn't take Vera too long to trace the natural spine of Duskfall Vale—a long, forested expanse stretching eastward from Sablewatch Hollow—until she reached the valley's far edge and the looming embrace of the mountains. Sablewatch Hollow sat nestled near the westernmost ridge. From what she could estimate, the entire length of the vale spanned a few dozen miles, give or take—though she'd never been one for precise measurements unless absolutely forced.

Nor was she a fan of the mile. She always figured if you picked a system, you stuck with it. No mixing or half-measures. In any case, what would've taken a car twenty or thirty minutes to cross, she managed in just under that. On 'foot.' Which was objectively insane. The mountains ahead rose higher than anything she'd cleared during her earlier reckless Breakstep flights, but even then, they didn't pose much of a challenge.

A few empowered activations carried her up the slopes in lunging arcs, gravity little more than an afterthought. Within minutes, she stood atop a wide ledge near the peak, looking out over the world beyond the valley. It was… quite the sight. For the first time in her life, she was seeing something that didn't feel like it belonged on a screen. Beyond the ridges of Duskfall Vale, the land stretched wide and silent beneath a bruised, star-littered sky.

The last wisps of mist clung to the lowlands like smoke that refused to lift. Forests gave way to plains, then to shimmering wetlands crisscrossed with glinting rivers reflecting the moonlight like threads of silver. And above it all hung the pale ashen moon. From here, it looked far too large, watching from the heavens like a solemn sentinel. In the far distance, near the edge of the horizon, a silhouette sat hunched like a memory. A city. Its spires pierced the gaze, faintly lit and half-lost in fog.

These were the Mistvale Reaches. And there, just barely visible, was Marrowfen. The city of Blackwater and Bone. Something stirred in her—a strange mix of awe and nostalgia. She let out a quiet laugh. The first time she'd ever leveled through this region, she'd hated it. Foggy marches were never her thing. Nor were the slow quests. But now? Seeing it like this, with the wind at her face and the weight of real stone beneath her boots… it was different. The moment felt cinematic. Magical, even. …

If not slightly undercut by the cold creeping into her limbs from the high-altitude chill. She wasn't freezing, but she wasn't exactly comfy either. Unfortunately, she didn't have a Mark for warmth. She could've lit a bonfire with Mark of Ember Flame, or downed a cold-resistance phial, but that felt like overkill. Conveniently, she had the perfect item instead. The gem on her Vaultring pulsed in response to her intent. A moment later, a small stone appeared in her palm.

It was about the size of a coin, warm to the touch, and etched with shallow glyphs that glowed like banked coals. She spotted a rocky outcrop that offered some shelter from the wind and made her way over. Then she dropped the stone. In a quiet burst of magic, it unfurled into a compact, circular hearth. Fire sparked to life in its center—a slow-burning, steady flame that beat with a calming energy. A Kindlehearth Ember.

A common craftable item in Ashen Legacy, usually used for roleplaying moments, social downtime, or recovery between pulls. Players loved it for the out-of-combat regen and chill vibes. It didn't banish the cold entirely, but it helped. More than the flame's size should've allowed. Vera stepped over to a flat-topped boulder beside the hearth. In one smooth motion, she pushed herself up and sat, letting the warmth creep into her skin as she stared out into the night. And finally… she just breathed.

The day's chaos played through her mind like echoes. Waking up in her game character's body. A world that looked familiar, but not from behind a screen. The instincts that weren't hers… but now undeniably were. A silver-haired girl who called her 'Mommy'. A snarky butler who hadn't so much as blinked at any of it. It was a lot. And it felt nice to have a moment away from it all. To process. Her gaze drifted westward, toward the dark silhouette of Duskfall Vale.

Nestled deep in the forested folds, she could just make out the distant shape of Sablewatch Hollow. Her estate. Her home now, she supposed. She… still wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that. About being here. About the fact that she might be expected to fill the role of a parent-like figure. It hadn't gotten less scary. Any of it. For all the exhilaration and wonder the day had brought, it had also been full of questions she didn't have answers to. Unknowns. Expectations. Risks she hadn't signed up for.

And yet, considering the sheer scale of what she'd been thrown into… she thought she'd handled it surprisingly well. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. But now what? What came next? Was she just supposed to accept this new reality? Roll with it? Boom—wake up as your game character. Congrats, this is your life now. Was it really that easy to leave behind the world she came from? Even with all the pain… she wasn't ready to pretend it hadn't mattered.

She'd had friends. Moments of real joy. She'd made the best of a shit situation and carved something decent out of it—even after the accident. Her thoughts drifted to that day. Three years ago. It hadn't even been anything that spectacular. That's what she always told herself. She'd read the statistics. Tens of thousands of crashes every day. Over a million deaths each year. Even more injured. Just numbers. Numbers that amounted to the worst experience of her life. Numbers that took her family away.

Not that it really mattered anymore, did it? Especially here. When she wasn't even in the same world. But she did wonder what her parents might have said if they could see her now. Would they tell her to let it all go? Not bother looking back? To treat this as an opportunity to be happier? She thought they might've, actually. Especially her mom. But full detachment didn't sit right with her. What could she even do with that tension, though? Not much.

She could think of a dozen ways to turn it into motivation—to fuel the desire to find a path home. And she could think of a dozen potential steps to explore that option. But none of them felt grounded. They all hinged on assumptions or beliefs she might as well be making up. And then… there was Serel. Vera had made a decision when she met the girl. Sudden, maybe. Impulsive. Split-second. But it had been sincere. She'd chosen to take responsibility for her—because it had felt like the right thing to do.

The only option that wouldn't leave her lying awake at night any more than she already did. What she hadn't figured out yet was what that responsibility actually meant. She couldn't quite bring herself to call herself Serel's mother. Not really. She wasn't equipped for a role like that. Responsibility and her… didn't mesh. Not when it came to something as important as a child. She knew she'd screw it up at some point. Maybe not catastrophically, but there would definitely be mistakes.

She supposed the question was whether those mistakes would be survivable. Whether she'd be able to keep going—and growing—after them. What was the right move there? Lean into the parent role? Pull back and let Caldrin take over more? Try to find someone who could fill the gaps she didn't know how to? A nanny, maybe, if those even existed in this world. But… if today had shown her anything, it was that Serel wanted her. The kid lit up whenever Vera so much as glanced her way.

That affection and trust were written in every bright-eyed look, every bouncing step, every beam of joy. And Vera… wasn't going to pretend she didn't feel something in return—no matter how much she liked to pretend she was confused or thrown by the new emotions churning inside her. She was confused, of course. And overwhelmed. And so, so scared. But none of that changed the reality of the situation. What left her uncertain wasn't the existence of those feelings.

It was whether she should accept them, given they weren't wholly hers. A slow breath slipped out of her lungs. She pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging them close, chin resting on her knees. Her eyes lifted to the pale, cold moon hanging high in the dark sky. Where would she be a year from now? Two years? Five? Could she be back in her apartment? Or would she still be here—still looking after Serel? Was that what she'd signed up for when she made that pledge? As daunting as the question was…

the answer came easily. Yes. Plain and simple. She didn't even have to think about it. The specifics of where she went from here were murky—and yeah, the whole situation terrified her—but at the core of it, there really was no doubt. When she'd decided to take responsibility for Serel, impulsive as it had been, she hadn't meant temporarily. She'd meant it completely. She saw that now. And strangely, that realization grounded her.

It didn't erase the chaos, the fear, or the sprawling unknown of her new reality—but it gave her somewhere to begin. A foundation. There were still so many questions she wasn't ready to answer. So many possibilities she wasn't ready to examine too closely. What was this world, really? Why had she ended up here? What kind of moral reckoning would it demand of her? What was she supposed to do with this second life—if that's what it even was? But even without those answers, she had chosen one undeniable truth.

Serel would be her anchor. Simple as that. That was her starting point. From there, she could figure the rest out. Piece by piece. Step by step. She'd protect the girl. Give her the most normal life she could, whatever that looked like here. And in the process, Vera would learn and adapt. Learn what mattered most to her. Decide where she fit in this world, if she did. She'd work out her relationship with Serel—not just what it was now, but what it would become. No need to define it yet.

No need to label herself a parent, a mentor, or some random aunt winging it day by day. For now… she'd just follow where it led. It was a better plan than any other she could think of. Actually, that was a lie. It wasn't just better. It felt right. And Vera wasn't the sentimental type, but for once, she trusted that feeling. Without meaning to, she started humming. A soft, slow tune she hadn't thought of in years. The one her mom used to sing when tucking her in on restless nights.

The wind tried to steal the notes, but she kept humming anyway. Fragments of memory surfaced: a warm hand smoothing back her hair. A quiet voice promising monsters weren't real—or that if they were, she was brave enough to face them. The familiar creak of bedsheets pulled snug under her chin. She'd outgrown that kind of comfort early. Shoved it aside like it was childish. Now, just remembering it brought a faint flush of embarrassment even though it probably shouldn't.

And yet, here—sitting on a mountain in a world she didn't understand—those memories brought something else too. A sense of comfort. Funny how that worked. She never would've admitted it back then. She'd been the kind of teenager who'd rather die than confess her parents meant anything to her. She'd been immature like that. Probably still was. What were the odds Serel would turn out the same way if someone like her was the one doing the parenting? For a moment, she actually pitied the girl.

The thought made her snort. Poor kid. She pictured the look on her mom's face if she could see her now—that smug, I-told-you-so grin, paired with exaggerated laughter. The kind that said'You? A parent? Oh, I've got to sit down.' And somehow, at the same time, her mom would be beaming. Proud. Delighted that Vera had somehow ended up with something resembling a child, despite all odds. Despite being Vera. The memory drew another, and with it came a dozen more recollections.

Old arguments with her mother, both serious and ridiculous. The uniquely sharp, lovingly combative rhythm that had once filled their home like background noise. Vera stayed where she was for a while, legs tucked in, thoughts drifting in the cold air as the fire of the Kindlehearth Ember slowly died down, leaving only glowing embers and a faint wisp of smoke curling into the sky. If the mechanics of Ashen Legacy carried over, that meant an hour had passed. An entire hour of her just… sitting. Thinking.

Like some kind of introspective monk. She hadn't done that in years. Eventually, she unfolded her legs and hopped down from the rocky ledge, stretching out her limbs. Her muscles moved without the faintest resistance. The fluidity of it still amazed her. After years of limits, she didn't take any of it for granted. Her gaze lingered on the Mistvale Reaches, settling on the faint outline of Marrowfen. More suggestion than shape beneath the moonlight, but she could picture it clearly. She wanted to go there soon.

Get a sense of the world. See real people beyond Caldrin and Serel. Interact with them. Learn how they responded to her presence as 'Veralyth.' Maybe even find other players who'd ended up here. Check if her old guildmates' characters existed somewhere. Or even their base. There was a lot to investigate. That might be tomorrow's focus. Tonight, though? It was probably time to get moving.