After a few days of restless work, Caleb sat in his office, surrounded by a mountain of paperwork. His pen moved mechanically, signing documents and reviewing budgets, but his thoughts were consumed by Celestia’s injury and her last words to him. Guilt twisted his expression, mingling with worry and anxiety.
Suddenly feeling an unsettling void, he looked up from his desk, gazing out the window as if hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Was she resting? Healing? The thought nagged at him, but he shook it off, forcing himself to return to the drudgery of work.
Meanwhile, Celestia was navigating the depths of the dungeon, having reached the 2nd Level. Larger groups occasionally offered assistance, but she pushed forward alone, exhaustion weighing on her. She needed to descend deeper, to confront the personal hell that haunted her. After a brief inventory check and a meager meal, she pressed on, battling monsters and evading danger.
As the days passed, Caleb buried himself in work, signing papers late into the night. Yet, an uncomfortable feeling lingered, intensifying until it knotted in his stomach. He rose abruptly, a sense of guilt driving him from his office. He had to discover what was wrong. Without a second thought, he headed toward the dungeon entrance, compelled by an unseen force.
By the end of the third day, Celestia found refuge near a cave entrance, her gaze fixed on the staircase leading to the 4th Level. She checked her pocket watch; it was nearly midnight. “I should wait until morning,” she whispered to herself, fatigue washing over her. Casting a protective spell over the entrance, she settled in for the night, determined not to be surprised by any monsters.
Caleb descended deeper into the dungeon, anxiety coursing through him as the sick feeling in his stomach intensified. Something was very wrong. When he reached the entrance to the 4th Level, he paused, spotting a figure inside the cave. Squinting, he recognized Celestia, and his heart sank with worry.
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Inside the cave, Celestia had turned her attention away from the entrance, focused on drawing a fire circle to heat some soup. The headache that had plagued her all day throbbed insistently, making her groan as she nibbled on the remnants of her meal.
Caleb entered quietly, careful not to startle her. “Lady Pendragon? Is that you?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
Celestia gasped, her heart racing at the sudden sound. “AAH…!” She turned, hand pressed against her chest, the adrenaline spiking.
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s just me!” Caleb reassured her, guilt flooding his voice as he took a seat beside her on the cold ground. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”
“Lord Nightglen? What… what are you doing here?” Celestia’s surprise was palpable. She had heard of his occasional visits to the dungeon, but now, of all times, she struggled to find her words.
Caleb averted his gaze, guilt shadowing his features. “I just… had a feeling that something was wrong. And now I find you here, alone. This place is dangerous, especially for you.” His tone was heavy with concern as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, avoiding her eyes.
Her expression turned grim. “B-but I have a hard time believing this is just a coincidence. I’m almost on the fourth level…” She attempted to conceal the ragged tears in her leather armor and the deeper scratches marring her iron gear. She had exhausted her healing potions and could no longer heal herself, but a desperate urge drove her to go deeper, to prove she could make it on her own.
Caleb’s gaze narrowed at the sight of her injuries, a flash of anger igniting within him. He took a deep breath, trying to restrain his frustration. “The fourth Level? How can you move with those wounds? You’re alone, with no support. Do you realize how reckless this is? What if a monster attacks? Why aren’t you healing yourself?”
Tears brimmed in Celestia’s eyes as her voice trembled. “I don’t know… I just can’t heal myself. The potions work just fine.”