“I…” Caleb began, his lips curving into a soft, almost hesitant smile. There was a flicker of guilt in his gaze, his ears tinged with the faintest blush. “I’m still sorry for teasing you—even if it was meant to be lighthearted. I should have stopped when I realized…”
He glanced at the flickering light from the fire circle, his hands unconsciously beginning to rub her wrists in gentle, soothing circles. There was something unguarded about him as he spoke, each word quieter than the last. “Please, call me Caleb,” he murmured.
Celestia’s eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat. His first name? The Caleb Nightglen, asking her to call him so casually? She stammered, searching for the right words, her mind swirling between maintaining decorum and yielding to his request. “M-My… my…” She swallowed, her gaze flitting away, cheeks warm with embarrassment. “My Lord,” she finally said, her voice softer, almost regretful. “I… I shouldn’t call you by your first name… at least, not until…” She trailed off, turning her gaze to the opposite wall, fighting the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. “Until we know each other better,” she finished in a whisper.
Caleb’s expression softened. He allowed his hands to slide gently from her wrists, his gaze lingering on her face as he caught her blush. There was a flicker of something unreadable in his golden eye, a hint of vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to feel. “Yes… we should get to know each other better,” he said, a slight hesitation coloring his words. “And… I appreciate your understanding. My assistant—she wasn’t supposed to act as she did.” A trace of guilt passed over his face, his hands tightening briefly in his lap before releasing.
She waved a hand lightly, brushing it off with a small, reassuring smile that made him pause. “You can’t help other people’s actions, my Lord. You acted decently, and kept your distance. We were strangers, meeting for the first time. You didn’t know me, and yet… you stayed by my side.” She clasped her hands in her lap, thumbs twining nervously, but the honesty in her voice was undeniable. Relief softened Celestia’s expression. She took a steadying breath, her hands folding nervously as she rubbed her thumbs together, and finally looked up at him. “Thank you for… treating me with respect. For staying with me even when we were strangers.” Her words came out quieter than she intended, each one carefully chosen.
“You need rest…” he whispered, his hands twitching as he fought the urge to insist she lie down. Watching her closely, he found himself torn between wanting to help her and respecting her choice.
Caleb’s gaze was warm and attentive, but she was eager to change the subject, to lighten the moment. Gathering her courage, she quirked a playful smile. “So, here we are—a public dungeon. Not exactly a place to enforce personal space, is it?” Her voice took on a teasing lilt, though her eyelids grew heavier as she spoke, a wave of tiredness settling over her.
“You’re quite the stubborn one,” Caleb replied with a faint chuckle, watching her with amusement as she struggled to keep her eyes open. He could see exhaustion etched in her every movement, a weariness that tugged at his heart. “But I’ll be here,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Before she could protest, he rose, took the pot from the fire, and ate his meal in silence, keeping watch over her.
With the soft glow of the enchanted circle casting a warm light throughout the cave, he settled back beside her, taking off his jacket and draping it over her shoulders. She seemed to resist only slightly before giving in to her tiredness. A few moments later, noticing her tense posture, he carefully reached out, guiding her to rest against his thigh. A gentle touch along her shoulder reassured her, his hand lingering for a moment, offering a quiet, steady presence as she drifted into sleep.
Caleb’s gaze shifted to the entrance of the cave, where a soft, purple veil of protective energy shimmered faintly, delicate runes glowing and weaving across the barrier. In the safety of the cave, with the spell in place, it was a familiar sight, offering reassurance. he felt a sense of calm settle over him. He allowed himself to close his eye, leaning back against the cool stone wall. He let the cave’s quiet embrace him. Caleb’s eyelids grew heavy as the warmth of the fire lulled him into a fragile sleep.
But rest was fleeting; the soft barrier spell at the cave’s entrance wavered suddenly, prickling his senses just as Celestia stirred beside him, her instincts alerted as a distant presence pressed against the barrier. Weak but insistent, the pressure was enough to fray the spell’s edges. She struggled up, whispering an incantation, her fingers tracing the ancient symbols needed to reinforce the barrier. Her energy flared momentarily, enough to push the threat back, though the effort drained her. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and when her vision blurred, she leaned against Caleb’s side, her last thought a quiet satisfaction—they were safe.
Caleb jolted awake, the remnants of sleep vanishing as he took in her pale face, her faint breaths. Panic shot through him, but he stilled himself, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek. He could feel the heaviness of her exhaustion, the toll her magic had taken. “You’re going to work yourself to death,” he murmured, his hand resting on her shoulder, his touch light yet steady. “Why didn’t you let yourself rest?” The gentle reprimand was filled with warmth, his voice soft and unwavering. “I’m here too,” he whispered, more to himself, but the words held a promise, one he fully intended to keep.
The next morning, as light filtered into the cave, Celestia stirred, her mind hazy as the events of the previous day settled back into place. A dull ache throbbed at her temples, the curse’s mark haunting her even now. She blinked, the attack on her protective spell at the entrance gnawed at her thoughts; such disturbances were highly uncharacteristic for the third level of the dungeon. Typically, only the more dangerous sixth level and beyond would witness such assaults. Anxiety clawed at her—would she truly be able to reach the tenth level? Clearing her vision, only to realize her head was resting on Caleb’s thigh, his jacket draped over her shoulders. Her heart raced, warmth creeping into her cheeks as she bolted upright.
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“By the Elements! I… I’m so sorry, my Lord!” Her voice came out louder than she intended, and her embarrassment burned hotter, her pulse thrumming in her ears.
Caleb’s eyes fluttered open, his expression caught between sleep and surprise, and he instinctively rubbed his face to shake off his embarrassment. He blinked at her, a small, groggy smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t… you don’t have to apologize,” he replied, his voice rough with sleep, one hand rubbing his temple. Seeing her flushed face and wide eyes, he felt a warmth spread in his own cheeks. He shifted, clearing his throat, struggling to regain his composure. “It was no trouble,”
Still trying to steady herself, Celestia managed a soft smile, though the dizziness lingered. She tapped her cheeks lightly as if it would bring her fully back to reality. “I… I should be on my way…” Her voice faltered, and she looked anywhere but at him, her hands fidgeting with her belongings. Packing them with meticulous precision, as if focusing on the task could rid her of the warmth still lingering from their closeness.
Caleb watched her, noticing her quick, almost nervous glances. She was kinda adorable in her flustered state, yet he could see her struggling to shake off the exhaustion. He straightened, gathering his belongings, though he couldn’t resist stealing a quick glance at her flushed face, wondering if she realized how charming she looked in his coat.
Clearing his throat, he forced himself to regain his composure. “So… you’re going deeper into the dungeon?” he asked, trying to sound casual, though his voice came out more intense than he intended.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper as her hand absently pressed against her forehead, and Caleb’s heart clenched as he saw the faint lines of pain etched across her face. The curse—its haunting grip flickered in her eyes as she steadied herself. Shadows of the 10th level’s memory lingered there, and he could sense the invisible claws tightening around her spirit.
The shadows of the curse tightened around her, sharp and unforgiving, pressing her to her limit. Gritting her teeth, she steadied herself. “I need to end this. Even if I have to face it alone.”
As she forced her breathing to even out, Caleb’s jaw tightened as he saw the determination mingled with vulnerability in her eyes. “You’re not going alone,” he replied, voice firm, unwavering. “I’ll go with you to the tenth level, whether you want me to or not.”
Celestia hesitated, caught between protest and appreciation, her lips parting in a quiet exhale. “It’s a public dungeon…” she began, a small, playful smile tugging at her mouth. “If we’re heading in the same direction… I suppose I can’t stop you.”
Her movements grew more decisive as she packed her belongings, her hand settling on her sword hilt with practiced ease. She traced her fingers along the runes at the entrance, whispering the counter-spell, watching as the protective barrier dissolved in soft, violet lights. With a determined expression, she placed her hand on the hilt of her sword, grounding herself for the journey ahead.
He smiled, a gentle warmth spreading across his features. “You’re strong, Celestia. But everyone needs help sometimes. Even the strongest need a little support now and then.”
She took a deep breath, steadying herself against the cool, damp air that filled the stone cave. Her dominant hand instinctively settled on the hilt of her sword, the familiar weight a reassuring anchor in the swirling uncertainty of her thoughts. The path to the fourth level was etched in her memory—these early levels had been her territory long before the curse had twisted her life. Though the dungeon shifted subtly, the key markers remained steadfast, silent witnesses to her countless ventures. Her sharp gaze swept across the surroundings, every shadow and crevice scrutinized for signs of danger. Finding none, she stepped forward, her movements precise and unhesitating, as if the very stone beneath her feet whispered secrets of safety.
Ahead, loomed the narrow spiral staircase, its worn stones embedded deep into the earth, spiraling down into the depths of uncertainty. With each confident step, Celestia reaffirmed her years of experience, her body flowing with a quiet mastery honed through countless expeditions—an unbroken rhythm that seemed to echo within the dungeon’s stony embrace.
Caleb followed closely behind, his golden eye glinting in the dim light as he scanned their surroundings. Even in the familiar shadows, his instincts honed from years of survival kicked in, searching for any lurking dangers. As the legend who had dared to venture alone to the 12th Level, he moved with a grace that spoke of caution and awareness. He observed her navigate the path, noting the practiced precision of her steps and the poise with which she held herself—a dance crafted by numerous encounters within these ancient walls. Yet, he sensed the underlying tremor of unease, the untested depths that still lay ahead of her.
As they descended, his hand remained relaxed at his side, poised to reach for his blade in a heartbeat if needed. He glided to her side, his voice a low murmur, careful not to startle her. “I’ll follow your lead… for now,” he offered, the hint of respect lacing his tone alongside a faint amusement. His gaze flicked to his jacket still draped over her shoulders, an unspoken question lingering in the air as his eyebrow arched in playful inquiry. “Though… I’d like to know if my jacket plans to accompany you further down as well.”
The warmth of his words cut through the pervasive chill of the descent, weaving a thread of lightness amid the shadows. It offered a rare glimpse of his humor, a reminder that she didn’t have to face the encroaching darkness alone.
Celestia glanced up at Caleb, confusion mingling with surprise in her expression. Her gaze shifted to her shoulders, where his jacket lay draped comfortably—a small comfort she hadn’t realized she had clung to until now. A rush of warmth spread through her, igniting emotions long buried beneath the weight of her curse. Suddenly self-conscious, she halted on the step, her heart quickening with an unfamiliar flutter.
Frantically, she unfastened her sword from her waist and set her backpack aside, eager to return his jacket. “I… I’m so sorry about this!” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. The color, however, contrasted starkly against her pallor, a remnant of the lingering effects of her curse. Yet, in that moment, a playful spark ignited in her eyes as she added with a shy smile, “I guess your jacket just wanted to stay close to the one who might need it the most.”
The warmth of her words clashed with the chill of the dungeon air, creating a momentary lightness that felt almost magical—a fleeting sense of connection in the depths of a place where hope often felt like a distant memory.