Misunderstood Extra in a Twisted Tale

I crept through the south woods' cave mouth, the dual axes slung over my shoulder like grumpy old pals. Cough, cough—ugh, my lungs were still throwing a fit from that map-chasing sprint , but I'd dragged Mya and that loud brat into this damp, creepy pit anyway. The glowing map—stupid scribbles pulsing gold—was crammed in my pocket, taunting me like a smug ghost. Mya Seraphine slinked beside me, her silver hair catching torchlight, violet eyes sparkling with that freaky love-pride mix—now laced with a teasing twinkle. Her last chirp, "so cute," was rattling in my skull like a pesky jingle. Why's she gotta turn everything into a tease?!

"Glowy walls," I muttered, squinting at the cave—gold veins pulsed in the stone, weirdly alive. Cough, cough—I rubbed my chest, glaring at my axes. "This dump's laughing at me!"

Mya's smile flicked on like a trap—sharp, warm, way too smug. "Your dump's got style," she teased, leaning closer—way too close. Her hand brushed my arm—light, fierce—and I glared, swatting it off like a pesky spark. Too slow—damn it!

"Hands off!" I rasped—cough, cough. Her touch—ugh, it's like a zap of crazy, and I hate it! I shuffled back, torch flickering. The cave hummed—drips echoing, air thick—but my head was louder. "I don't need your goofy nonsense!"

"It's not nonsense," she said, voice low, playful—like some sly fox. "It's adorable." Her fingers danced near my sleeve—too close—her smile fierce. "My Kain's exploring—so cute!"

"Cute?!" I growled, swinging an axe just to flex—cough, cough. "I'm not your dumb mascot, got it?! I'm here 'cause this junk's mine!" Her laugh—bright, wild—hit me, and I hated how it twisted my gut—anger, sure, but something else—ugh, quit it!

"You're mine," she whispered, skipping ahead—way too chipper—her hand grazing my back—warm, firm. Her lips puckered—teasingly close!

I stumbled, heat blasting my face—rage, obviously, but maybe… no, stop it! "Yours?!" I rasped, waving the torch at her—slow, too slow. Cough, cough—I glared, all grit and stubbornness. "I'm me, Mya! Not your pet project!" Her scent—steel and roses—was frying my senses, and I gripped the torch tighter. "Back off already!"

She didn't. Her smile widened—cheeky soft—fingers twirling a lock of my hair, quick, clingy. "Not a project," she giggled, voice dripping with that vow vibe. "My guard—my Kain—so brave! I'd slay for you!"

"Slay?!" I scoffed—cough, cough—shoving the torch in her face. "You're a nutcase!" But her giggle stuck—Rivermist's not my circus, so why's my gut yelling to crack this?! I squinted at the walls—gold veins twisting, pulsing—cough, cough—something clicked. "Oi, these look like… arrows?!"

The kid—snotty loudmouth—popped up, clutching his sister's hand, yelling, "They point that way!" Cough, cough—I glared at him—big eyes, grubby fingers—ugh, he's like a mini-me with worse timing!

"That way?" I rasped, swinging the torch—cough, cough. "You're too loud, brat!" He grinned—wild, fearless—and I froze—damn it, why's this kid's guts hitting me so hard?!

The bandit leader—big oaf—stumbled in, torch sloshing shadows, grinning. "Boss! Cave's got glowy stuff—tracks deeper! What's up?!"

"Up?" I rasped, smacking the axe on the wall—it thudded—and coughed, steadying myself. "Follow it! I'm not your damn guide!"

He chuckled—too jolly. "Aye, boss! You're a blaze—nabbed that map!"

"Blaze?" I growled, waving the torch—cough, cough. "It fell! Say it straight!" But he laughed—shuffling off, yelling orders—and I shook my head, gritting through the coughs. "Idiots leaning on me again!"

The kid tugged my sleeve—sticky fingers—ugh! "You're clever! Solve it!" Cough, cough—I glared down—he's like me before this dumb life—damn it, why's my chest thumping?!

"Solve it?" I rasped, nudging him off—gentle, kinda. "Not my mystery, brat!" But he stared—stubborn little pest—and I faltered—why's this nagging me?!

Mya twirled closer, her smile fierce, teasing—way too much. "He adores you," she chirped, voice low. "My Kain's a hero—so sweet!"

"Your Kain?!" I spun, torch up—cough, cough—defiant as hell. "I'm not your cuddly savior, got it?!" Her look—pride, love—smacked me, and I froze—why's she so deep in my head when I didn't ask for this?!

"Not cuddly," she giggled, soft, fierce. "Mine." She skipped ahead—too close—grabbing my arm—gentle, stubborn. "You're tougher than his lot—than him!"

I stiffened—her touch burned, her pulse syncing with mine—ugh! "Tougher?" I rasped, pulling back—not far. "I'm a wreck! He's got flash, I've got guts!" Cough, cough—I stood tall, torch flaring, will blazing—nobody mocks my woods!

"Guts?" Her laugh rang—bright, dangerous. "I'd swap his shine for your guts any day!" She spun closer, lips puckering—fierce, teasing. "You're perfect!"

"Perfect?!" I growled—cough, cough—but didn't dodge—not yet. "I don't need…" The kid yanked again—"It's a door!"—and I snapped—cough, cough—glaring deeper. "A door?! What's that clown hiding?!"

"Door?" Mya chirped, smile sharp, wild—sword out—playful gleam. "Not his alone." She stepped beside me, torch high—warm, steady. "Ready?"

"Ready?" I hefted both axes—cough, cough—grinning raggedly. "Nobody locks my backyard but me!" I barked, "Deeper! Move!"—bandits rallying, the kid darting ahead—yelling.

Shadows danced—gold pulsed—cave narrowed—a stone slab loomed—carved, glowing—locked tight!

I skidded up—cough, cough—axes glinting. A slot—map-shaped—pulsed gold. "Sneaky trash!" I rasped—cough, cough—pulling the map—glowing brighter—fit it in?! That surge flickered—my arm twitched—huh?!

Mya's sword gleamed—her giggle wild. "Mine!" she chirped—spinning to me—pride blazing—twirling my hair. "My Kain's unlocking secrets—cute!"

"Cute?!" I growled—cough, cough—slamming the map in—the surge pulsed—door rumbling—I grinned. "I'm me!"

The slab cracked—gold light flared—torch sputtered—a pit yawned—bones glinted—skulls grinning—Leon's laugh echoed—smug, distant—"Fools!"—a skeleton clutched… a book?!

"Book?!" I rasped—cough, cough—peering down—bones rattling—map pulsing—gold veins dimming. "What's this creepy junk?!"

Mya leaned in—hand on my shoulder—gentle, fierce—giggling. "My Kain's found a spooky prize—so daring!"

"Spooky?!" I shoved her off—cough, cough—staring at the book—grinning—ragged. "Crazy!"

"Crazy," she chirped—kneeling—smile fierce—eyes twinkling—sword tapping a skull. "Yours!"

I froze—cough, cough—torch low—bones still—book glowing—Leon's laugh fading—south wind howling. "Maybe," I muttered—grinning—grabbing a stick—poking the book—light flared—words shimmered—old, weird! "Guess I'm reading this crap!" The kid gasped—wild—bandits murmured—awed—and I stood—cough, cough—grit in my stance—Mya winking—sharp—no crowd—just us!