(Dylan)

Dylan groaned as his back hit the mud, his body too drained to move. Relief mingled with exhaustion as he shut his eyes and caught his breath. The mud was soft, but only gave way to the roots and stones underneath, reminding him he was on the floor of the jungle and not taking a mud bath.

“Thank Mother,” Hay’len said, plopping down in the mud beside him.

The scraping of stone drew Dylan’s attention upward, where he peeked through his weary eyelids, watching Wedge wipe at the corner of his eyes in relief.

The big guy brought the rock to his mouth and said, “Tome & Key.”

“Go ahead,” the rock replied in P’reslen’s voice. There was a tension in his tone, expecting more grim news.

“Eury has been revived,” Wedge said with a sniffle.

“How?” the rock asked, shifting to Runemist’s voice. Wedge walked away from the group, holding onto the rock as he updated her on their situation.

“What…” Eury said, pausing between hacking coughs, “happened…”

“Easy now,” W’itney said, crouching beside her as they helped her sit up. They steadied her shoulder with one hand, soothing her back with their other as she worked to clear her lungs.

“We lowered you into the cavern,” Hay’len said. “Everything was going according to plan until Dylan started shouting that you were in trouble. You’d been down there for about five minutes at that point—”

W’itney held up a hand to stop their sibling as Eury forcefully coughed into her fist again.

Hay’len waited for the latest fit to subside before asking, “Do you remember anything?”

“It was terrible,” Eury said in a raspy voice. “I held my breath for as long as I could.” She paused, drawing a shaky breath, as if talking about it brought back the suffocation. “But when I tried to take my next—” She hesitated again, reaching up with a hand. Her fingers trembled as they touched her throat.

She closed her eyes and continued, “I couldn’t stop coughing. I couldn’t get a breath. And then I…” Her voice trailed off, as though reliving it was too much. “And then I woke up with this terrible headache.” She turned to Dylan, still lying on his back, catching his own breath. “And he was kissing me.”

W’itney gave a whimsical sigh. “Just like in the fables. True love’s kiss brought the princess back to life.”

“That’s…” Dylan grunted, his muscles stiff and aching as he struggled to sit up and correct the narrative. “That’s not what happened…”

Eury turned her head to face W’itney with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean?”

W’itney offered a gentle smile and spoke slowly, while they continued to rub her back. “Hun, when we pulled you out of the cavern…” They softened their voice. “You were dead.”

“I… died?” Eury asked with a furrowed brow. She cast her eyes to the ground, the realization weighing on her shoulders. After a moment, she glanced back up.

Dylan had finally sat up all the way. “Okay, that part’s true, but—”

W’itney scooted around to sit by the determined elf’s side, taking her hand in theirs. “Not only was he the only one to sense you were in trouble…” Their pale blue eyes moved from Eury’s to Dylan’s. “But it was his quick thinking that got you out of there.”

Eury also turned to Dylan, her amethyst eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity as he sat there, his mouth still open from W’itney’s interjection.

Dylan’s face grew flush from W’itney’s exaggerated retelling. They made him out to be a hero, which he knew he wasn’t. He shook his head dismissively and, with an embarrassed smile, gestured toward Wedge. “I mean, the big guy did most of the work… But we could just leave you down there.”

W’itney chuckled softly, rolling their eyes. “So modest…” They squeezed Eury’s hand. “If he didn’t throw himself under the chain to act as a ‘person-pulley,’ you’d still be down there…” They turned to give him a pointed look from under their brows.

Eury glanced down at Dylan’s pants. He frowned, futilely brushing at the soiled, rust-stained, deeply creased marks that clung stubbornly to the fabric.

Her eyes glanced up at him with concern. “Were you hurt?”

W’itney raised both eyebrows, nodding slowly. “Oh yes. He screamed the entire time and then blacked out from the pain. Even had to take a healing potion.” She gave Dylan a mischievous wink.

Dylan scratched the back of his head. “Technically, that’s true too, but your—”

W’itney turned to Eury and continued, “We finally got you up here, and when I checked, you weren’t breathing and didn’t have a pulse.”

“But?” Eury asked, desperately trying to follow along. “I’m alive now…” She glanced between them, waiting for an explanation.

W’itney was quick to provide the answer. “Dylan never gave up on you. Even after the rest of us did…” Their shoulders slumped. “We told him to stop. That you were gone, but he refused.”

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Their eyes lit up again as they turned to Dylan with a sentimental smile, and said, “It was his kiss that brought you back to life.”

Eury’s amethyst gaze shifted to Dylan again, her brows knitting together. “A… kiss?”

W’itney pulled Eury’s hand to their chest, squeezing it tightly as they let out a dreamy sigh. “So romantic…”

Dylan’s eyes flicked between W’itney and Eury as he shook his head, waving his hands dismissively. “It wasn’t a kiss.”

“I woke up with your mouth on mine.” Eury’s fingers subconsciously grazed her lips. She tilted her head slightly and asked, “How do kisses work on Dirt?”

Dylan held up his hand defensively, his ears burning with embarrassment. “Listen… Okay fine. Technically, it was a kiss.” He bit his lip, glancing away nervously before adding, “But it wasn’t like that… certainly not with you.”

Eury’s eyes narrowed on him. “And why not?”

W’itney took that personally, leaning in toward him while pointing at Eury. “Yeah, why wouldn’t you want to kiss her? She’s gorgeous!”

Dylan’s shoulders slumped as he realized there was no escape from their combined scrutiny. He opened his mouth, running a hand through his hair nervously, and tried to dig his way out. “All I did was perform CPR—”

“Don’t spell!” the three of them said, giving him dirty looks.

He sighed, exasperated. “Cardiopulmonary resuscitation. That’s it. That’s all I did,” he muttered.

It was Eury who came to his rescue, changing the topic. “You were right,” she said. “There is something down there, and I think it’s what we’ve been searching for.”

“You found the book?” he asked, excited. “The one I’m not supposed to touch?” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. This might have just been worth it after all.

“No.” She shook her head. “But I counted at least four arc beetle eggs down there before I…” Her words trailed off as she glanced away, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her borrowed cloak, unable to face the end of her sentence.

Hay’len leaned forward, curiosity written on their face as they asked, “How can you tell they’re from an arc beetle?”

“Well, they’re this big,” Eury said, bringing her hand up to her collarbone. “They were glowing faintly, and I could see the grubs wriggling within. Even the rancid air hummed with arc energy down there. I just know this is the nest.”

Wedge’s heavy footsteps signaled his approach. “We will stay here and wait for Tome & Key,” he said. “W’itney, Hay’len, take turns watching over the entrance.” He gestured toward the hole they’d just pulled Eury from. “Keep your distance and notify me if anything changes.”

W’itney gave Eury’s shoulder a quick squeeze and then stood up to stretch. “Not a problem,” they said. “There aren’t enough gems in the world to get me any closer to that gashole.”

Dylan chuckled. “Gashole…” he repeated to himself.

The rain continued with a light drizzle. The storm was passing, but there was still time before clear skies prevailed. He didn’t want to stick around when the rain stopped knocking the fumes out of the air.

“And Dylan,” Wedge turned to him, his gaze lingering briefly on the determined elf. “Watch over Eury.” Dylan gave a small nod, fairly sure she was still more qualified to watch him, but unwilling to argue with the big guy.

She snorted sharply, glaring up at him. “I’m not a child.”

Wedge turned his stony gaze on her. “But you are injured.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms, wincing—unable to mask the discomfort from her broken rib.

“I will patrol and remove any threats. Eury, hold this, so Tome & Key finds you first.” Wedge kneeled beside her, holding out the echo locator. She took it, and he rose to his full height. “Call out if you need me. I will be nearby.” Both shields slid off his back as Wedge strapped them onto his forearms, his steps purposeful as he jogged through the trees, the splashes of water marking his departure.

Dylan sat across from Eury, afraid to test if he had the strength to move. He’d spent all his stored energy earlier, leaving him exhausted. He rested as it trickled back to him slowly.

Without proper nutrition, he knew his energy would be the first casualty of starvation. His co-ordination would be next, followed by his strength. But the salt would help keep his mind clear until the very end. Then it, too, would grow foggy and unreliable.

Eury was the first to speak, casting a wary glance at the cavern entrance. “Can we get away from the gashole?”

Dylan chuckled at that word again. He’d happily endure getting to his feet again if that meant he didn’t have to deal with the smell. He nodded, and said, “Sure.”

The healing potion restored the function of his legs—muscles, ligaments, and bones—but couldn’t ease the throbbing ache of overexertion. He leaned forward, wincing as he got to his feet. Once upright, he glanced down to see Eury’s outstretched hand.

‘A sign of trust?’ he wondered, taking her hand in his to help her up. Her grip was firm but careful as she did most of the work, pulling herself to her feet. Lucky for him, she wasn’t heavier, or he’d have toppled over onto the poor elf.

“Ow.” She winced, clutching her side. But she pushed through the pain, her grimace vanishing as quickly as it appeared. If only guilt was so easily suppressed.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice soft as he leaned forward slightly. She was acting tough, but she didn’t have to—not on his account, at least. Finding out you’d recently died was a lot to process, a fact he knew from personal experience.

“I’m fine.” She forced a tight-lipped smile, shifting slightly as she tested her ribs. “It just hurts when I breathe.”

Dylan dipped his head. “I’m pretty sure that’s my fault.” His stomach twisted as he cringed, deciding to come clean. “I broke your ribs while resuscitating you.”

With her hand in his, she gave it an appreciative squeeze before releasing him. “It’s alright,” she said, her arm instinctively guarding her ribs. “A broken rib is a lot better than being dead.” Her demeanor shifted into something Dylan wouldn’t have recognized as Eury’s. It was softer, almost shy—vulnerable.

She averted his gaze, gathering her resolve as her fingers continued to run along the hem of the orange cloak. “Thank you.” She paused a moment before adding, “For not giving up on me.”

He felt his face grow flush. “You’re welcome.”

‘It’s what anyone would’ve done,’ he thought, but deep down, he knew that wasn’t true. But it’s what anyone should’ve done, and that’s what he chose to believe because that’s the kind of world he wanted to live in.

He didn’t want to pry, but perhaps Eury was warming up to him finally. It’d only taken a near-death experience. Well… Technically, it’d taken a near-death experience and a death. But who was counting? Other than his reset counter. Dylan shifted slightly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He’d take every minor victory he could get.

The pair made their way further into the jungle, away from the stench. Still able to see W’itney and Hay’len, Dylan found a small hill where a pair of trees grew comfortably across from each other. He helped Eury sit down to lean against one—and she let him. Then he lowered himself painfully against the other, the tautness in his muscles protesting every movement. Their feet lined up, side by side, pointing in opposite directions.

It was nice to lean his head back against the trunk and just listen. The large leaves echoed softly as they caught individual raindrops, runoff from higher on the trees. The sound reminded him of camping with his dad. Tarps and tents had a similar effect, loud and comforting during rainstorms.

She still wore his cloak, which suited him just fine—and her finer. Despite the rain, the air was warm, and other than the added weight, he didn’t mind being soaked in the jungle; its cooling effect helped with the tropical climate.

He let his heavy eyelids close, unaware of the way her gaze lingered on him. To Dylan, her next question came out of nowhere.