Lorian froze at the sound of Aric's voice, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest. His mind raced for an explanation, but the adrenaline pumping through him left him at a loss. Slowly, he turned, and there stood Aric, his eyes narrowed, arms crossed, looking every bit as suspicious as one would expect from a squad leader catching a cadet in a restricted area.
"I—uh..." Lorian began, his thoughts scrambling. "I was... looking for my sword."
Aric blinked, taken aback. "Your sword?"
"Yeah," Lorian said quickly, warming up to the absurdity of his excuse. "You see, I thought I might have dropped it somewhere when I... you know, was practicing earlier."
Aric's brow furrowed. "You were practicing near a restricted area, and then... lost your sword?"
"Right!" Lorian nodded vigorously, hoping the momentum of the lie would carry him through. "Clumsy of me, I know. I figured I should find it before someone else trips over it. Safety first, right?"
Aric stood there, staring at Lorian as though trying to process what he had just heard. For a split second, the silence stretched, the tension thick. Lorian could feel his pulse pounding in his ears. Did he buy it? No way he did...
And then, to Lorian's relief, Aric blinked, clearly thrown off. "You... lost your sword? In the ruins?"
Lorian seized the opportunity. "Yep! So, I'll just... head back to camp now and... uh, keep looking for it later!" Before Aric could question him further, Lorian offered a quick, nervous grin and turned to make his escape. "Good talk, Aric!"
"Lorian—wait, what?!" Aric started, but Lorian was already making a swift retreat, walking briskly away before his squad leader could recover from the ridiculous excuse.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Lorian exhaled a shaky breath. That was close.
Was it now? Lysara's voice rang softly in his mind, her amusement unmistakable. That excuse was... creative.
Quiet, Lorian muttered under his breath as he quickened his pace. He wasn't sure if Lysara was mocking him or genuinely impressed by his quick thinking. Either way, he needed to get back to camp before Aric realized just how little sense that excuse actually made.
By the time Lorian made it to the edge of the camp, his heart was still racing, but this time with relief. He had narrowly avoided a confrontation—and more importantly, avoided having to explain the real reason why he had been in the ruins.
Well done, Lysara teased in his mind. You may have a future in storytelling.
Yeah, yeah, Lorian muttered, glancing down at the mark on his wrist, which pulsed faintly, a reminder of the pact he had just made. He was grateful for the brief distraction, but reality was quickly setting back in. He wasn't the same person he had been just hours ago.
His magic—his very being—had changed. And now, with Lysara bound to him, there was no turning back.
As he crossed the threshold into the camp, Lorian couldn't help but wonder what the future held for him. The surge of power within him was undeniable, but so was the uncertainty that came with it.
"Fortune favors the bold," he whispered, though the weight of his choice still hung heavily on his shoulders.
Indeed it does, Lysara purred, the satisfaction in her voice unmistakable.
As Lorian sat beside Nia, the crackle of the fire filled the comfortable silence between them. But in his mind, there was another presence—one that wasn’t as quiet.
Aw, isn’t this sweet? Sitting by the fire with your little squad mate, sharing deep thoughts and awkward glances. Tell me, Lorian, do you blush this easily around all girls?
Lorian stiffened slightly, his eyes flicking to the fire to avoid giving any sign that Lysara’s voice was distracting him. Focus, he told himself, trying to push her voice to the back of his mind.
But Lysara wasn’t finished. I see why you like her. She's pretty, I'll give you that. Although... maybe not as enchanting as someone else you know... Her voice dropped, laced with a teasing edge. Don’t tell me you're nervous just because she touched your hand. You’ve handled worse, haven’t you, Lorian?
Lorian felt his face grow warm, knowing exactly who she was referring to. Oh, wait, Lysara continued, her tone dripping with mock realization, that was your first kiss, wasn’t it? How sweet. I’m honored to have taken that from you.
His jaw clenched at her teasing, but he forced himself to focus on Nia, who sat beside him, unaware of the storm brewing in his mind.
Oh, come now, Lysara continued, surely you have better lines than ‘duty calls.’ That was quite tragic, you know.
Lorian gritted his teeth. "Shut up," he muttered under his breath.
Nia blinked, her expression shifting from relaxed to confused in an instant. "Uh... what?"
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Realizing his mistake, Lorian froze, his eyes widening slightly as the heat rushed to his face. He quickly glanced at Nia, trying to recover. "Uh, no! Not you. I—I didn’t mean you." He fumbled over his words, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
Nia’s eyebrows raised, a mixture of confusion and amusement crossing her face. "Then... who exactly were you talking to?" She tried to keep her tone light, but there was genuine curiosity in her voice.
Lorian scrambled for an excuse, his mind racing. "Oh, uh... just... talking to myself. You know, sometimes you just have to tell your own brain to stop overthinking things." He forced a laugh, though it came out awkwardly.
Nia stared at him for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. "Right... okay," she said slowly, though it was clear she wasn’t entirely convinced.
Smooth, Lysara chimed in, her voice dripping with amusement. Really, Lorian, you might need to work on your excuses. At least she didn't hear everything. Although... Lysara's laughter echoed in his mind, soft and knowing.
Lorian internally groaned, trying to keep his composure in front of Nia. He couldn't exactly tell her the truth, not without sounding insane. So he just nodded, hoping the moment would pass.
Nia studied him for a moment longer, then finally shrugged. "Well, if you say so." She turned her attention back to the fire, but Lorian could tell that she wasn’t entirely letting it go.
You should be more careful, Lysara whispered in his mind, her tone a mix of teasing and warning. If you're going to talk to me, darling, you’ll have to do better than that if you don’t want people noticing.
Lorian bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping back at her. His heart was still racing from the close call, and he could feel Nia’s presence beside him, the awkward tension lingering between them.
"Are you... okay?" Nia asked after a moment, glancing sideways at him again.
Lorian forced another smile, trying to hide the chaos inside his head. "Yeah. Just... a lot on my mind, like I said."
Nia gave a small nod, though she still looked unsure. "Well... if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me."
Lorian felt a pang of guilt again. She was trying, genuinely trying, to be a friend. And here he was, keeping secrets and battling a demon’s voice in his head.
At least one of us appreciates the attention, Lysara purred. Perhaps next time, you’ll share more... interesting details with her.
Lorian exhaled quietly, trying to stay calm. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up without losing it. But for now, all he could do was nod and hope the night passed without any more slip-ups.
It’s going to be a long night, he thought to himself, the weight of everything pressing down on him. Keeping watch just became a much more complicated task.
Hours had passed, and the sky had begun to lighten with the first hint of dawn. Lorian sat on the log, staring into the now-smoldering campfire, his thoughts still tangled in the events of the night. Nia had long since retired to her tent, leaving him alone with his thoughts—and with Lysara's constant, teasing commentary in his head.
The researchers had started their work just as the first light of day crept over the horizon, their voices low but animated as they examined the ruins. Lorian watched them from a distance, too tired to truly focus on their discussions but unable to stop his ears from picking up snippets of conversation.
They’re so blissfully unaware of what you’ve done, Lysara’s voice purred in his mind, her amusement evident. I suppose it’s for the best. Let them poke around like children playing with toys they don’t understand.
Lorian ignored her, though a part of him felt a pang of guilt. He had touched the orb, set something in motion, and now he was keeping that secret from everyone. He wasn’t sure whether it was self-preservation or the weight of the pact with Lysara that kept him from telling the truth. Either way, it was too late to change anything now.
His attention shifted as he overheard a conversation between the head researcher, Aldric Vael, and one of his assistants. The frustration in Aldric's voice was unmistakable.
“This is unacceptable,” Aldric grumbled, his sharp tone carrying through the early morning air. “We were informed there was an artifact of significant interest here—a relic of untold power. And what do we find? Nothing. The orb is empty.”
Lorian stiffened at the mention of the orb. He kept his head low, pretending not to hear, but his ears were keenly tuned to the conversation.
One of the junior researchers spoke up cautiously. “But, sir, the orb’s structure is still intact. There must be something we can—”
“Intact?” Aldric scoffed, cutting him off. “No, it’s not. It’s been drained. Whatever power was held within it is gone—vanished. And I’m willing to bet I know why.” He cast a pointed glance toward Aric, who stood nearby, speaking with another member of the squad. “That fool must have damaged it beyond repair.”
Lorian felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck. He hadn’t considered that anyone would blame Aric for what happened, but now, the head researcher’s ire was fixated squarely on him. Aldric was pacing, hands gesturing wildly as he ranted to his assistant.
“We were supposed to retrieve an artifact of immense magical power! An orb that could potentially unlock secrets long buried by the passage of time, and now... it’s nothing more than a glorified paperweight!” Aldric’s voice rose with each word. “All because of improper handling. If I had known they would send soldiers to manhandle such a delicate relic...”
Lorian clenched his fists. The guilt gnawed at him. It wasn’t Aric’s fault—the orb had been drained the moment he had touched it. But how could he explain that without revealing the truth?
You’re not really considering telling them, are you? Lysara’s voice slid through his thoughts, amused. They wouldn’t understand. They’d probably accuse you of tampering with it and punish you before you could even explain.
She was right. There was no way Lorian could reveal what he had done without causing more problems for himself. His mind raced, trying to find a way out of the situation. Perhaps if he let the researchers vent their frustrations and pin the blame on Aric, this whole thing would blow over. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it would keep him out of trouble.
You’ve done nothing wrong, Lysara whispered, her tone coaxing. Let them squabble over an empty artifact. What matters now is the power you’ve gained. Focus on that.
Lorian glanced back at the ruins, where the researchers were still poring over the empty orb chamber. He could still feel the lingering energy from the pact, the way it had changed him. The mark on his wrist pulsed faintly, a constant reminder of the power now at his disposal.
Aldric’s voice cut through his thoughts again. “This is a disaster. I’ll be reporting this to the council. They’ll need to know that this mission was a complete waste of resources. And I’ll make sure Aric takes full responsibility for this mess.”
Lorian felt a surge of anger at the thought of Aric being punished for something that wasn’t his fault. He opened his mouth, ready to speak up, but then he hesitated.
Careful, Lorian, Lysara warned. You’re walking a fine line. Choose your words wisely.
Lorian clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay silent. He wasn’t sure what to say or how to fix the situation, but one thing was clear: this wasn’t going to end well for anyone if the truth came out.
The sun was rising higher in the sky now, casting long shadows over the camp. His watch was over, but the weight of what had happened during the night still hung heavily on his shoulders.