The green light flickered to life, bathing the area in a soothing glow as Celestia’s breath finally steadied, the painful expression on her face fading. Her eyes, though still tired, held a glimmer of hope. “You’ll be fine. The exhaustion from a healing of this scale only lasts a week. Should I take you to a nearby city hospital?” Caleb’s gaze remained fixed on her, a soft hum resonating as the final wound—a laceration on her forehead—closed. Gently, he turned her onto her back, her head resting in his lap. “There, my lady. All healed up.” he murmured, his expression a blend of concern and guilt.
“How are you feeling, Lady Pendragon?” he asked softly.
Celestia’s gaze drifted, trying to piece together the events that led her here. Then she felt his warm, comforting hand. “I feel like I stumbled down two staircases and hit my head on a stone floor…” Her eyes fluttered shut, fatigue weighing heavily upon her.
Caleb let out a soft chuckle, rubbing her hand gently with his thumb, his voice laced with guilt. “Yeah… you kinda got dragged down two staircases and tossed around like a rag doll. It’s no wonder you feel that way, my lady.” He offered her a small, sad smile.
“Oh…” Celestia attempted to laugh but ended up coughing instead. As the coughing fit took hold, Caleb’s hand glowed again, easing her discomfort. “That’s not the first time,” she said, her attempt at sarcasm falling flat. “Thank you for the appointment today.” She tried to make light of the situation, but the memory of being treated like a sandbag was too fresh. Tears welled in her eyes, and she couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. “I want to go home—”
Caleb’s expression tightened, guilt washing over him anew. His grip on her hand softened as if he feared further hurting her. “Just rest and relax, my lady,” he said quietly. “Just relax.” His heart ached as he regarded her, his voice barely a whisper. “This… is not the first time?”
With a flick of his wrist, Caleb summoned a magical carriage. He gently helped her to a standing position, her legs wobbling beneath her. Everything felt surreal, but Celestia managed a small smile at him. “Thank you,” she said, feeling the need to acknowledge his presence after his unwavering support. “Yes, not the first time. My old party would shove me down dungeon staircases… or make me stumble over my own feet.” As he helped her into the carriage, she added, “Goodbye, Lord Nightglen.”
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Concern flickered across Caleb’s face, and he almost stepped forward to catch her again but stopped himself. Her words darkened his expression, fists clenching in suppressed fury. “Your… old party? They were your party? How could they treat you like that?” His voice was cold, though worry and concern radiated from him. “Where are they now? Do you still associate with them?”
Before Celestia could respond, the carriage door closed, cutting off their conversation. A royal guard approached Caleb, interrupting the moment. “I have some good news. Your assistant, Zara, confessed. She pointed out that you—my lord—wanted to help Miss Pendragon. It seems your assistant was… jealous. Typical.” He paused, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “On another note, we were able to erect a blocking barrier. No one could see or hear anything. With that, we’ll take our leave.”
As the carriage started moving, Caleb’s expression darkened further. He clenched and unclenched his fists, fighting to control his anger. His golden eye glowed with intensity, but he took a few deep breaths, stepping back to let her leave.
Caleb sighed, running a hand through his hair, guilt etched across his features. “Okay…” he murmured as he walked back into the city office atrium. Noticing Celestia’s shoulder bag sprawled on the floor, he bent down, stuffing the scattered contents back inside.
Meanwhile, the carriage rolled down the street. Celestia gazed out the window, watching Caleb grow smaller with each passing moment. With a weary sigh, she leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. When the carriage finally stopped, the coachman gently roused her. She thanked him and, feeling for her keys, was surprised to find her shoulder bag hadn’t fallen forward as usual. It dawned on her that she had left it behind in the city office building. I guess I need to start a new notebook, she thought, a hint of determination swelling within her.
Shaky but resolute, Celestia opened the front door, greeted her best friend’s Granny in the hallway, and ascended to her flat on the first floor.
For a week, Celestia remained at home. After two more days, she gathered the courage to venture into the city dungeon alone. She needed to reach the 10th level, but without a party, it would take an immense amount of strength, mana, and potions. So, she packed everything she could, including a new notebook filled with notes on Caleb Nightglen, which had become a recurring theme on nearly every page.
Equipped with her trusty armor and sword, Celestia steeled herself for the journey into the depths of the dungeon.