Chapter 118: Homecoming (Patreon)

The most defining feature of any big city was its skyline. Even in a fantasy world, this held true. Horizon had its natural spires of bleached white stone; Loth Elonen in the Everbloom had the Evertree; and the dwarves (even underground) had their monolithic sculptures carved into the very mountains depicting their kings of old.

Most of U’lindala was flat, which lent itself incredibly well to emphasizing an awe-inspiring architectural feat of strength. Even towns like Mirage, which was more spread out than it was built up, struck a mean silhouette. From the colorful tents and canopies lining the many market alleys to the bulbous palace spires reminiscent of Persian fables, they spoke to the arid climate and were nearly as eponymous for the zone as was the desert. The only things to contend with those two icons for U’lindalian fame were the camels, the giant tortoises, and the [Striders].

And then there was the Wellspring Phantasia.

Melia called it a casino because that is what it was, but in reality, it was so much more. Just like the legacy attractions of Las Vegas fame, Phantasia was a resort of the highest quality. It featured incomparable luxury through top-class rooms and accommodations, 5-star restaurants from world-renowned [Chefs], breathtaking performances from a myriad of entertainers…and, of course, gambling. A plethora of ways existed for people to fritter away their coin; from slot machines to games of chance, the many tables of dice, roulette wheels, and card games, and the most popular attraction of them all: [Strider] racing. Much like “Sin City” of old, if there was a vice, the Wellspring Phantasia had an outlet for it.

Or so Melia was led to believe.

In the game, players couldn’t take part in any illegal activities, or more specifically, any activity that would garner the game a harsher rating from the entertainment board. Players could indulge in slots, blackjack, and a hand of poker, but only with a separate currency limited to the casino. Technically, a player couldn’t make or lose any gold or real money…though there were always enterprising individuals who tried to find ways around that. In fact, if a player ran out of casino coins, they could simply partake in the free side-game mini-attractions, little games of luck with minimal skill reminiscent of carnival games. Things like “Punch the Target,” where a player had to stop a moving bar at the sweet spot for maximum effect, or rigged claw games with a flimsy grip that only latched on to targets 50% of the time.

Beyond the gambling, players could waste their time in other creative ways. At the end of the day, the developers wanted to recreate the feel of a lavish, premium resort, somewhere to relax, have fun, and forget about the grind. Events happened on the hour that players could sign up for, such as jumping puzzles or a life-size roulette table where players chose a slot to stand in and hoped desperately the ball wouldn't land on them. There was an entire section of the achievements page dedicated solely to Wellspring Phantasia trophies, and players could spend months trying to attempt them all.

Melia was greatly looking forward to seeing the casino in a real setting. She wanted to taste the food, maybe eat at a buffet… maybe get kicked out of a buffet…stay in a penthouse suite, and lounge lazily in a massive pool. Most of those things she could already do, yes, but she wanted to do them here, with her friends, where she felt like she was on vacation. And as [Sunrise] crested a sandy dune at the break of day, greeted by their namesake, the glorious Wellspring came into focus.

Calling it a monument to extravagance and excess would be an understatement. It was a mountain of a building, beyond massive, easily dwarfing any casino Melia had read about in books. She didn’t know how many stories it had, especially since there weren’t easily identified floors with windows to every hotel room glinting in the sun, but it had to be many hundreds of feet tall, and several city blocks wide.

The Phantasia was modeled after the palace from Arabian Nights, with two twin observation spires on the east and west, rounded domes capping the turrets, and a single massive dome covering the entire main building, which itself must have been an architectural wonder. The spires, designed to rival the Strat in Las Vegas, each stood 1200 feet tall, while the hotel, interspersed between the four corner turrets and the main building, had over 25,000 rooms.

The Phantasia was a city all on its own.

It was no surprise then that the Wellspring dwarfed Oasis, nestled comfortably in its shadow, but the creators of this wonder did not stop there. Each of the caps to the four turrets, and the tops of the two spires…were coated entirely in gold. As the early rays of the sun beamed down on the desert, the radiant light made the world feel as if it were on fire.

…if Melia was pressed to recreate the building’s gilded nature, even she might find her vault running low.

But for as ostentatious, eye-catching, and inviting as Phantasia was…it was still very far away. It sat on the far edge of the city, and to get to it, one needed to enter the walled citadel of Oasis first. Walls which, from a distance seemed little more than a decorative rim around the casino, but were mighty enough to keep out the strongest of the desert’s beasts.

Despite the imposing nature of 30-foot walls, the gates along the main highway were fully raised, inviting everyone to enter. Merchants, adventurers, and assorted travelers could flow seamlessly into Oasis ten carts abreast and still have breathing room in case of an errant driver. The group, riding atop what might be considered exotic mounts in this region, were hardly spared a glance. And no wonder. As they checked through customs and passed into the city, they were met with a sight that stole each of their breaths.

Countless sandstone buildings littered every street, stringing countless flags from rooftop to rooftop, and the city was filled with color. Huge potted plants decorated every entrance, and there was at least a little bit of green hanging from patios, climbing up trellises, or nestled under windows. But perhaps the most ostentatious display of wealth wasn’t the sturdy architecture that had spanned countless centuries, nor the general air of happiness and contentment…and maybe not even the golden casino itself.

It was the water.

For a hidden oasis in the middle of a parched desert, water features were everywhere. Every plaza had a fountain, every public park had a pool. Water ran freely along raised aqueducts that created decorative arches for people to walk under. At varying intervals, it cascaded down in sparkling showers, creating waterfalls of infinite glittering mists. At first glance, no matter where the group looked, not a single person walking around wasn’t wearing a smile.

“So…we can agree, right?” Jessica asked, staring around in awe at the arid paradise.

The many open pools and decorated fountains shaded by carefully tended palms dropped the temperature considerably, but people still wore colorful, flashy garments fit for such a climate, with loose, billowing sleeves and nearly transparent silks.

“This place might be heaven?”

“Or one of many hells,” Alastair mused, “Depending on your vice.”

The group’s eyes fell on a group of women who, while probably not [Dancers] like Melia, were dressed in a similar vein.

“Don’t let looks deceive,” Y’cennia warned. “The districts along the road are the wealthiest. Not everything looks like this.”

“Ah,” Jessica said, coming to her senses. “You grew up around here, didn’t you?”

“‘Around here’,” Y’cennia chuckled. “I suppose it’s relative. When all you know is the city, one side of the city feels like it’s on the other side of the world compared to the next. But…compared to Horizon? Which, you know, makes this place feel small? I suppose I did grow up…around here.”

“And we’re going to visit, right?” Melia chimed in. “We’re going to see your family?”

“Ah,” Y’cennia wilted. While recently she seemed so sure of herself, it was easy to forget the quavering young maiden she had been when Melia first met her.

“We don’t have to,” Melia assured her. “I just thought you might like to show off.”

“You know,” Jessica cackled, “Most people might say it more tactfully. Welp, can’t expect tact from a dragon.”

“I…they live…across the city,” Y’cennia said weakly, as if that was a serious deterrent. Melia laughed.

“What’s wrong with that? We have time!”

“Do we?” Alastair asked, looking at Brandy. He wasn’t doubting Melia’s claim, only confirming the facts with the person who held the schedule—metaphorically speaking.

“Hmmm,” Brandy frowned. Melia watched the elf stare at each of their companions before going glassy-eyed and peering out into space.

Melia could tell the group needed to be higher level. There was no chance of engaging a Demon Lord at their current strength. So while fighting the dude was the long-term goal, organizing the training montage was the pre-game. That’s why they traveled to U’lindala in the first place, but that didn’t mean they needed to head straight for [Az-tiki].

“We have time,” Brandy eventually said. Melia didn’t miss the way her friend’s eyes traveled toward the casino. She, too, probably wanted to see the sights, maybe have one last relaxing vacation.

“Perfect,” Ellesea said. “In that case, maybe we can find a new home for my horse.”

The group looked down at the animal the [Arcanist] was riding on. It was not, as they might have expected, the [Flying Carpet]. Ellesea’s magical adventures lasted hardly more than a couple of hours, gliding blissfully through the air, slicing through the night sky as effortlessly as a thought.

Because the horse was smart.

It wasn’t a belligerent animal, nor was it envious of a replacement. If anything, it was happy to have a rider no longer, though it probably wasn’t looking far enough into the future where its supply of juicy apples and crunchy carrots suddenly dried up. All it knew, in that moment, was that it didn’t have a rider. It didn’t have somebody spurring it on. Without Ellesea, the horse was being led along by the reins. And, no matter how insistent, no matter how exasperated the yells, without somebody on its back, it simply wouldn’t move faster. It had slowed down to a leisurely stroll, as if meandering through a meadow. Without seriously hurting it to bend it to their whims, the party found themselves at the mercy of a lazy horse.

So Ellesea, to her immediate sorrow, had to stow her [Flying Carpet], and she was not allowed to make a triumphant entrance into the city, sitting atop a floating rug.

It was probably for the best.

But one thing could definitely be said for Ellesea after this entire fiasco: she had no great loyalty to that horse. It served her well and she wished it the best, but now that she had a superior mount, one that wouldn’t be able to disobey (or try to snack on her robes), she wasn’t ever going back.

“We can do that,” Al nodded. “Though it might not be today. Speaking of today, what’s our goal? Do we even have one? Sure, visiting Y’cennia’s home is on the list, but when do we want to do that? It’s still early in the morning. Should we wait until later? What’s a good time frame? Do we want to secure lodging first? In that case, where are we staying? And for how long?”

“Jeeze, relax,” Jessica reeled. “Take it easy! We’ve been riding for nearly a week, and I’m saddle-sore! I think I might be part of Stumpy McGee at this point!”

The ram merely bleated at his adopted name.

“I think there’s only one real answer to that question, Al,” Melia said with a grin. He gave her a curious look, but it didn’t take long to find out what she meant. Everybody else was still stealthily stealing glances at the Wellspring Phantasia.

“Shall we book a floor?” Lethia asked, as if considering buying a deli sandwich.

“Maybe not a whole floor,” Melia cringed. “But, ah, I’ll leave it to you? Yes, please do.”

She knew the [Retainers] had access to at least some of her funds, whatever that actually meant, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility to book a whole floor of rooms. But what did that really mean? Melia supposed it really came down to how big a single floor was. What if “a floor” was merely a suite? Then…yes. She would like a floor. But for the moment, Melia decided not to worry about it, knowing her [Retainers] wouldn’t put her into debt.

“Then I shall take my leave,” Lethia said with a bow. “Layalee, L’menia…attend to our mistress.”

The huge tigerkin rolled her eyes and looked like she wanted to say “duh,” while Layalee merely flexed.

…Melia had to wonder. Was there a way to communicate solely through flexing? Maybe Layalee was onto something here. But what would that look like? Perhaps an over-arm bicep curl for “I got this?” And an under-arm crunch for “Get dunked on, nerd?” Some revision might be needed.

The group watched the elf cut through the street, dividing the crowds with ease as she rode confidently out of sight. Then again, few people would be willing to stand in the way of an 8-foot-tall forest elf sitting on top of an equally massive [Nightsaber].

“So…that’s a thing,” Jessica said, still coming to terms with having her life upgraded. She obviously didn’t expect her adopted maid to get them accommodations fit for a queen.

Which she really should have, in Melia’s opinion, since Princess Melody was an irreplaceable part of their crew, and her own [Retainers] had worked for Moeldywn while she was asleep. And…on top of that, they’d be accommodations fit for a dragon, anyway.

“What do we do now?” Jessica finished, shaking her head.

“I think it’s time,” Melia nodded firmly. “Y’cennia, take us home.”

​

Home was a word with subtle nuance and hidden meaning, or so Y’cennia was coming to believe. Yes, in the traditional sense, if one looked it up in a dictionary, it meant the shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, or household. But it wasn’t as simple as that, either.

For Y’cennia, the building located on 245 Palm Street, 18th district, Oasis…wasn’t home. It hadn’t been home for several years now, not since she marched out the door with all her belongings on her back and just enough coin to pay for a one-way ticket to Horizon. If she was honest with herself, it hadn’t been home since earlier than that. But when did it stop being a place of warmth, affection, and solace from the pains of the outside world?

Had it ever been like that?

She honestly couldn’t say. Before she left, Y’cennia hadn’t known differently, so she assumed what she knew of home was normal. She quickly learned she was mistaken. That wasn’t to say she had things poorly. She wasn’t literally poor, being one of the many destitute, homeless, or downtrodden. She wasn’t a gutter child. She wasn’t metaphorically poor either. Y’cennia received enough nutrition to grow, education to learn, and stimulation to develop her young mind. But it was just that: enough. It met the bar and went no higher.

Even the concept of family was a bastardization of the real thing.

Catkin households tended to be very large. Not only did they come in litters, usually between 4 and 8 children per birth, but family groups often remained clumped in a single, ever-growing compound. So on top of her brothers and sisters, Y’cennia had to deal with grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and the occasional nephew from her eldest siblings, nearly a decade older than her. All things told, her “chapter” of the Y clan had nearly 250 members.

Now, Y’cennia’s original house wasn't that big, and it wouldn’t have fit nearly that many people. But every day, she’d run into no fewer than 10 other people trying to keep their stuff as theirs, or maybe trying to make somebody else’s stuff not theirs. Generally, only those who got caught were punished for their mischief. Even if everybody knew everybody else was up to no good, it bred an environment of “take care of me first.”

In such a home, Y’cennia was not the oldest. She wasn’t the strongest. Not the smartest, the most gifted, talented, or ambitious. She simply…was.

That meant there wasn’t really a place for her once it came time to decide what to do with her life.

Again, she wasn’t poor…and her family didn’t think poorly enough of her that they’d throw her out on the street for being useless. They most likely would have been totally accepting of her if she'd turned into a deadbeat, moved from unskilled job to unskilled job, and became an average nobody. But Y’cennia didn’t want to be a nobody. She wanted to take something and make it hers.

Interestingly, [Alchemy] wasn’t her first choice. The first thing Y’cennia ever thought about doing was becoming a [Merchant]. It’s what many beastkin did; after all, money made the world go ‘round. People were always buying, selling, trading, or otherwise handling money.

But because she didn’t have that undefined edge, that extra little spark to set her apart, there was never any hope of becoming an apprentice. Oh, she could have gotten a job working for a [Merchant], but that wouldn’t have gotten her anywhere. There was a very distinct difference between working for somebody with a class and becoming an apprentice to that class. She didn’t even show enough promise (compared to some of her siblings or relatives) to convince her parents to vouch for her at their respective jobs.

Y’cennia eventually settled on [Alchemy] because it sounded so interesting. Taking mundane materials to create magical goods? Transmuting one metal into another? Searching for the fabled [Water of Life]? Who didn’t want to live forever?

Though, now that she thought about it, maybe she would reconsider. When she first had those aspirations, Y’cennia hadn’t known any long-lived princesses or ancient dragons.

Y’cennia sat atop her [Strider], gazing across the street at the Y clan complex. Calling it a “complex” made it sound fancier than it had any right being: it wasn’t an enclosed mansion with multiple guest houses or compounds for extended family to live in. It was closer to an apartment block. But it was well-kept and not in a state of disrepair, so it didn’t bring shame to the neighbors. In fact, it looked exactly the same as it had when Y’cennia left, almost 5 years ago.

She hadn’t exactly left on bad terms, had she? Y’cennia didn’t think so, but she wouldn’t call them great. She made a bold declaration that she was going to become a “real [Alchemist]”- which was telling, since she didn’t even claim that she was going to become a master -and marched out the front door to skeptical mutterings of “good luck” and “how long until you think she’ll be back?”

Part of her wondered if they expected her never to return. To get lost in the desert, perish out there in the unknown? They weren’t even being malicious; people had accidents every day. Sometimes they made mistakes, and a small mishap could have dire consequences.

Well, she was home now, and Y’cennia wondered what sort of reception she’d receive.

Would they remember her? Would they laugh at her return and scorn her? Say I told you so, you’d never make it? She certainly felt justified in rubbing it in their faces if they tried.

“So, I can’t help but notice we’ve been staring at that building for the last 10 minutes,” Jessica said from behind her. Y’cennia closed her eyes and sighed. Leave it to the [Hunter] to point out a weak spot and highlight it for everyone to see.

“Yes,” Y’cennia agreed. “That’s my home.”

“All of it?” Jessica asked. “That’s…like, a whole-ass building.”

“Jessica,” Ellesea sighed. “What sort of building isn’t whole-ass?”

“You know what I mean!” Jessica scoffed. “I grew up in a four-room shack. That’s, like, an apartment block!”

“Well, it’s not just my family in there,” Y’cennia corrected. “I mean the McKenneths. There’s a ton of Y families in the complex.”

“…what?” Jessica asked, completely confused.

“You were a single child, weren’t you?”

“Not a chance. I had a crapload of siblings. You're thinking of Al.”

“So how did you all fit into 4 rooms?”

“Bunk beds. Lots of them.”

“Fair enough.”

“So are we going in?”

“I suppose we’ve stalled enough.”

Y’cennia led the way across the street and approached what looked like a guard booth. It wasn’t; the family wasn’t important enough to hire guards, but calling it a directory booth felt weird too, even if it was built for the express reason of giving directions. The windows were open, and an older man sat inside, fanning himself aggressively with what looked like a tiny palm frond. Y’cennia frowned…she didn’t recognize the man.

“Good afternoon,” he said pleasantly, if a little bored. He didn’t offer anything else; he simply stated that the afternoon was good.

“Hello,” Y’cennia said a touch forcefully, attempting to mask her nervousness with false bravado. “I’m looking for the McKenneth household. Are they still in building E?”

“Ah, family?” The man perked up. “And it seems you’re bringing visitors?”

His voice was pleasant, but Y’cennia couldn’t help but note how he dodged the question. As for family…it was obvious, wasn’t it? The whole clan had prominent tiger blood…though in most, it manifested more like tabby. The man before her had the same orange hair, but lacked the prominent black striping of Y’cennia’s ears and tail.

“Yes,” Y’cennia admitted. “My name is Y’cennia McKenneth. I moved away several years ago to become…an adventurer. This is my party; since we were in the area, I thought we might visit. But if they aren’t around anymore…?”

Y’cennia tried to add emphasis to that last point in an attempt to get the man back on track. The man looked behind her and did a double take. It was like he hadn’t seen who was accompanying her at all…and in the man’s defense, he truly might not have, at no fault of his own. More than half the people traveling with her had ways to become invisible or mask their presence. His eyes went wide, his ears went flat, and Y’cennia knew exactly who he was staring at. She had the same reaction to L’menia! Who wouldn’t be terrified of a giant tiger?

“Yes,” he said, much more respectfully. “They’re still in the E building. Don’t know who’s home right now; some might be heading to work. I’m sure somebody’s there, and we might be able to send a runner to call them home if need be?”

A tiny part of Y’cennia felt miffed that the man was directing this change of attitude toward L’menia, but she couldn’t really blame him. She thanked him, even though the petty part of her didn’t want to, and led the group down the path dividing the buildings.

“So I can’t help but notice that guy had orange hair,” Jessica said leadingly.

“I don’t know where you’re going with this,” Y’cennia said with exasperation, “But get used to it. No, that guy isn’t my dad, or whatever weird thought you’re having. I don’t know who that is. But this is the Y clan home in Oasis, Jess. Emphasis on clan. There’s a lot of us, and surprise surprise, we look alike.”

Jessica grumbled something about striking a nerve, but Y’cennia let it go. They entered the complex proper now, and she had more important things to worry about. Such as not trampling any of the little tykes running amok. As always, there was an abundance of kids running around unsupervised, which was fine so long as they weren’t getting into trouble.

“Don’t run in the street!” Y’cennia called after one little boy chasing a little girl. It came instinctively, most likely because some random elder had done it once to her before.

“You’re not my mom!” The boy sassed back, continuing to run. The girl squealed, stuck out her tongue, and sprinted away.

“…I think I like it here,” Jessica mused. Y’cennia rolled her eyes. Because of course you would.

Eventually they reached the main door to the E building…the front door to Y’cennia’s old home. She raised a fist to knock, but she hesitated. Who was home? Who would answer the door? Did she really want to do this?

“You know, if you stare at it hard enough, it might knock on its own,” Ellesea heckled. “I’m certain I’ve seen automatic door knockers on noble estates.”

Great. Even Ellesea was getting in on the teasing. Y’cennia figured she would need to curl up and die if Al felt it necessary to join in, so she prevented her premature death and knocked.

The interesting thing about beastkin homes was that you could always tell when somebody was coming to visit and when somebody was going to open the door. They could generally hear through the barrier and nobody in their right mind would [Enchant] a door to be soundproof.

Y’cennia glanced back at the giant Nightsaber holding a gnome and an elf.

Okay, maybe somebody might [Enchant] a door to be soundproof.

But in a beastkin dwelling, at least in the Y clan, answering a door was sort of a game. Surely word would spread that a visitor was coming, so chances were very good that somebody was lurking on the other side of the door, waiting for the visitor to knock. The eavesdropper might try to figure out if they knew the person from their knock pattern or their voice, if they were talking to themself, and then they’d go sprinting away to get the relevant party, loudly declaring who they thought it was.

Or at least that was a game Y’cennia had played with her siblings.

She found it amusing being on the receiving end, listening with a wry smile as a young voice called out almost instantly from the other side.

“Auntie T! Somebody’s here to see you! I don’t know who they are!!!”

Well, that makes two of us, kid.

The voice belonged to a young child, likely under 10, and since it had been about 5 years since Y’cennia left, there was a good chance the kid was too young to socialize with the older teens. Still, it was good to see some traditions remained.

Y’cennia listened to the child scream as they pattered down the hall, eventually growing quiet as they ran out of range. But the group didn’t have long to wait, as several moments later, an older, exasperated voice reached Y’cennia’s ears.

Ears that instantly went flat as her heart skipped a beat.

“Stay still, you reckless child,” “Auntie T” said. Or, more accurately…Y’tallah.

Y’cennia’s mom.

She sounded older…tired. Y’cennia suddenly felt very vulnerable, very uncertain, though she didn’t understand why. Or, maybe, it was just that the emotions she was experiencing were just…a lot.

The door opened, and before Y’cennia could truly determine that this was a bad idea and she’d rather be anywhere else…they locked eyes.

“Can I…?” Y’talla started to ask, until recognition dawned. “Y’cennia? Is that you?”

“Mom,” Y’cennia said with a scrunched-up nose, unsure if she needed to cry. “I’m home.”

Y’talla froze, dropping the book she was holding. The scruffy-haired little gremlin that answered the door snatched it up, held it above his head, and ran away screaming. Y’cennia took a tentative step forward and raised her arms. Her mom slid into them without question.

“Welcome home,” she said, her voice strained with emotion. “I didn’t think we’d ever see you again.”

A bubble of laughter escaped Y’cennia’s lips before she could stop it.

“To be honest, I’m a bit surprised myself. You never can tell where life is going to take you, can you?”

“Are you home for good?” Y’tallah asked. “Have you come to stay?”

Y’cennia stepped back, took a good look at her mom, and shook her head.

“No. I’m an adventurer now; this is my party.”

She waved a hand behind her, and she assumed the group gathered there waved back. She didn’t know; she didn’t want to take her eyes off her mom.

“We were in the area and we decided to visit.”

“Holy crap, it is you,” a new voice said. Y’vex, one of her older brothers, was leaning in a nearby doorway, looking mildly impressed. “Wait. I thought you left to become an [Alchemist]?”

“I did,” Y’cennia nodded, though she felt slightly defensive. Though Vex hadn’t expressly said anything, it felt like he was judging her. “And I am!” Y’cennia puffed out her chest proudly. “In fact, I’ve evolved my class! I’m a [Mixologist] now!”

Her brother frowned and took on a distant look, most likely [Inspecting] her. But before he could complain or maybe belittle her somehow, Tallah intervened.

“Where are my manners?” She said to the party. “Please, come inside!”

Y’cennia entered first, as she was still partially latched onto her mom, but the [Retainers] entered second. Perhaps they needed to be sure the home they were setting foot into met the requirements for their mistress? All Y’cennia really knew was that their presence was suddenly made known to her brother, and he went stiff as a board as they stooped under the doorway, hunching slightly to avoid banging their heads on the frame. They took up the entire hall, and once again proved to be larger than life. Vex inched back into the doorway as they thundered past, their heavy steps echoing down the halls.

…they had to be doing that on purpose. They could definitely be silent when they wanted to!

Y’cennia felt her spirits rising as they made their way into the living room. It was exactly as she remembered it; slightly plain, slightly out of date with the style of decor, and slightly too small for the number of people gathered. Especially when giant maids got added to the mix. But the [Retainers] proved their worth, pulling extra seating out of their inventories to accommodate all the guests, even if it did make Tallah slightly flustered. As the host, she should be more prepared…but who could prepare for a dragon and her maids?

The next several hours flew by. Y’cennia completely lost track of time. And yet, she hardly felt like she explained anything at all; every time she got onto a new topic, somebody had another question. And it wasn’t just her mom or older brother; other curious members of the family who’d heard unfamiliar voices peeked their heads through the door and crept inside. Very soon, the entire room was crammed full…exactly as Y’cennia remembered it.

But it didn’t feel wrong. It was right in all the ways that mattered. Y’cennia couldn’t explain it, but she felt more and more comfortable the longer she spoke. Maybe it was because most of the questions pointed her way weren’t laced with derision or snide asides…because her younger siblings and cousins spouted them off. People she never had any beef with.

Though, if she was honest, she didn’t take nearly as much pleasure rubbing her older brother’s face in her success as she thought.

“Wait,” Vex eventually said with a frown. He’d been waiting to bring this up since he [Inspected] her, but there hadn’t been an opportunity yet. “You’re higher level than me? I can’t see what it is.”

“Did you really think I’d be beneath you forever?” Y’cennia laughed. She honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he said yes. “Of course I leveled. I’m an adventurer. Leveling is what we do.”

Y’vex had been level 204 when she left, and now he was 278. Respectable, all things considered, seeing as it had been 5 years. But when she compared it to her own remarkable progress, she wanted to laugh.

“I'm rank 4, Vex. How’s that for going nowhere in life?”

Perhaps it came out with a little more venom than she intended, because the room grew quiet and still. Vex’s scowl deepened as he looked at her with something close to hatred.

“How is that possible?” He demanded. “There’s no shot you were able to do that on your own! And what sort of [Alchemist] calls themself an adventurer? How do you keep up in the field?”

“You see, that’s the great thing,” Y’cennia said tiredly. “I don’t need to. We have things called teams, Vex. And speaking of which…would you like to meet mine?”

She waved her hand at the others, who’d been sitting patiently as the family ignored them.

Y’cennia pointed at them one by one.

“That’s Alastair; he’s a [Paladin]. He keeps me safe. That’s Jessica, [Hunter], and Ellesea, [Arcanist]. They kill things before they can kill me. Oh,” Y’cennia giggled malevolently to herself, “This is Lady Eluna Brandywine…[Saint]. She’s our healer?”

She nodded appreciatively as her family’s collective jaw dropped. She was about to move on, but as she spotted Melia, she faltered. How was one supposed to introduce a dragon to their home? But, as with everything involving the gnome, it probably didn’t matter because she’d destroy expectations anyway.

“This…is Lady Meliastraza Obsidianheart. My mentor and benefactor.”

She couldn’t really be called a master, not in the traditional sense. But one thing was for certain….

“I owe her so much.”

“Hiya!” The gnome smiled brightly and bounced in her seat. “You can call me Melia!”

Y’cennia rolled her eyes as the rest of her family took on skeptical looks.

“You’re an [Alchemist]?” One young cousin asked. He sounded more confused than anything. “I thought gnomes were all [Engineers]?”

“Nuh uh,” corrected another cousin, a little girl Y’cennia barely knew. “Gnomes blow themselves up.”

“Those go hand in hand,” the first cousin admitted. “And it applies to both [Alchemists] and [Engineers]....”

“Only if you go too far!” Meliastraza cheered. “It’s important to have a backup plan! And a healer! Preferably both!”

Or have enough health points that render any explosion moot. But Y’cennia couldn’t exactly say that.

“And I wouldn’t say Y’cennia owes me anything! Everything she has, she earned on her own.”

Y’cennia couldn’t help but feel proud at those words, even if she didn’t agree with them fully. But she had put in the work, and she had the level to prove it.

“In fact,” the little gremlin continued, grinning at her mischievously, “Why don’t you show them? You made hundreds of potions, right! How about you hand out a few samples?”

Her family looked at her expectantly, and it occurred to Y’cennia, possibly for the first time, that they were actually interested in her class. Her progress. So long as they weren’t her loud, condescending older brother…her family actually cared.

Thinking she might as well, Y’cennia started pulling out simple [Lesser Health Potions]. Nowadays, they didn’t do her much good, and they wouldn’t put a dent in Alastair’s health, so they mostly went untouched. Thinking about how she’d basically climbed to a height some of her family might never meet reminded Y’cennia that her viewpoint had changed. When she left, a potion like this might cost several silver. To a family like hers…that was substantial. And she had the opportunity to give them away…where they might actually go to good use.

Now that she was paying closer attention, she could also see the condition of the rambunctious young tykes. They wore slightly worn-down clothing, either hand-me-downs or secondhand clothes, but that made sense for energetic kids who tore through new clothes. Some of them had scrapes, bumps, and bruises. While typical for young kids, why let the hurt linger when she could make it better?

“Here, why don’t I demonstrate?” Y’cennia volunteered. She collared a small boy trying to climb the arm of the couch she was sitting on and plonked him in her lap. “Lemme see your elbow.”

The boy practically shoved it in her face.

“Aw, you got a boo-boo. Want me to make it better?”

“I get to drink a magic potion?!” He said excitedly. He looked around the room like it was the coolest thing ever. “Who gets to do that?!”

“Cennie, you can’t waste something like that for something this trivial,” Y’tallah said, picking up a potion and holding it reverently. “Thank you, but shouldn’t we be saving these for real emergencies?”

“Mom, potions like these don’t do anything in emergencies,” Y’cennia said seriously. “For something like that, you’d want a full [Health Potion] at least. I wouldn’t settle for less than a [Greater].”

In fact, that’s exactly what she’d do. She had plenty of [Greater Health Potions] in her inventory. Not as many as the [Lessers], but enough that she could leave her mom with 3 dozen and not even worry about her supply.

But then…somebody went and said something truly ridiculous.

“Awww, how adorable,” Eluna whispered to herself. Y’cennia froze. She forgot that the [Saint] had…a peculiar view about small, cuddly things. Which, even Y’cennia could admit, was a category her young cousins definitely fell into. Young catkin, especially in the 5-10 year range, had large heads, fluffy ears, and eyes as expressive as the moon!

…which wasn’t a saying, was it?

But Brandy stood up, nearly bonking her head on the ceiling, and smiled. It was that holy, radiant smile that proved she was a genuine [Saint]...when she wasn’t being weird about small furry critters.

“Celestara’s Light bless you,” she said, closing her eyes and clamping her hands in front of her chest. “[Circle of Healing].”

The entire room was filled with radiant, golden light. The spell went off, and even Y’cennia could feel the energy work through her. Every minor hurt, down to the insignificant sores in her butt from riding too long… was gone. The room stared at the elf, almost afraid to move, as the healer in question took on a satisfied look and sat down.

But before they could recover, things had to get worse.

“Ooh, nice one!” Meliastraza cheered. “Cennie, why don’t you show off your new skills? You have the recipe for [Replenishment Potions], right? Those also restore mana; that’s better than healing! Oh, if you run out of mats, I’ve got more. Make as many as you want! Oh, and if anybody’s hungry, I can make lunch!”

Y’cennia’s eyes went wide…but she couldn’t stop the smile from forming. This wasn’t the way she thought coming home would go…but she couldn’t say she hated it. She might not be back for good, but she could leave them all with a reminder they’d never forget.