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Chapter 408: What do you know ?

Aeliana froze mid-sip, her amber eyes flicking up to Luca over the rim of the mug. He was leaning back on his hands, his smirk as infuriatingly persistent as ever, though there was a spark of curiosity in his dark eyes.

"Now," he said again, his tone casual but pointed. "When are you going to tell me your name?"

She lowered the mug slowly, her fingers tightening around the warm ceramic as she studied him warily. "Why does it matter?" she asked, her voice defensive.

"Well," Luca began, his smirk widening, "you already know my name—Luca—and judging by the fact that you've been watching me all this time, you probably know a lot more about me than that." He tilted his head, his gaze sharp and knowing. "Meanwhile, I don't even know your name."

Aeliana stiffened, her grip on the mug tightening. "I wasn't watching you," she muttered, though the heat creeping up her neck betrayed her embarrassment.

"Oh, right," Luca drawled, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. "You just happened to be looking my way from that ship. Coincidence, I'm sure."

She shot him a glare, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"But," he continued, leaning forward slightly, his tone softening just a fraction, "if we're going to be stuck in this place together, it only makes sense for me to know your name, doesn't it?"

Aeliana looked away, her gaze dropping to the mug in her hands. The firelight flickered across her features, highlighting the tension in her expression.

"I don't see why it's necessary," she said, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

Luca raised an eyebrow, leaning back again with a dramatic sigh. "Necessary? Come on, it's just a name. What's the worst that could happen? I promise I won't bite."

Her eyes flicked back to him, narrowing slightly. "You're annoying."

"Maybe," he agreed easily, flashing her a grin. "But I'm not wrong."

Aeliana exhaled sharply, her fingers brushing against the edge of her veil as she weighed her options. Part of her wanted to keep that distance, to hold onto the barrier that had always protected her. But another part of her—the part that felt strangely disarmed by his unwavering presence—found itself wavering.

Finally, she spoke, her voice low but steady.

"Aeliana," she said, her amber eyes meeting his.

Luca's smirk softened slightly, his expression thoughtful as he repeated the name. "Aeliana," he said, almost as if testing the way it felt on his tongue. "It suits you."

Her cheeks flushed faintly, and she quickly looked away, her voice sharp as she muttered, "Don't read too much into it."

"Too late," Luca replied, his grin returning.

She glared at him again, but this time there was less venom in her gaze. As much as she hated to admit it, there was a strange relief in hearing him say her name—like a piece of herself had been acknowledged without judgment.

Luca stretched his legs out in front of him, his dark eyes flicking back to the fire. "Well, Aeliana," he said casually. "You share the same name as the Duke Thaddeus' daughter."

Luca's dark eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Well, Aeliana," he said, his voice light but pointed, "you share the same name as the Duke Thaddeus' daughter."

The moment the words left his mouth, Aeliana stiffened, her fingers tightening around the mug. The reaction was subtle but unmistakable, and Luca's gaze sharpened.

He tilted his head slightly, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "My duchess?"

Her amber eyes darted to him, wide and startled, before she quickly lowered her gaze. "Don't call me that," she said softly, her voice edged with a bitterness she couldn't fully hide. "I'm not a duchess or anything."

Luca raised a brow, his expression curious but unassuming. "Why not?"

"Why?" Aeliana repeated, her tone sharper as she clutched the mug closer to her chest. "Because I'm useless."

The word hung in the air, heavy and sharp. Luca's smirk faded slightly, his expression shifting into something quieter, more thoughtful.

"Useless," he echoed, the word rolling off his tongue as if testing its weight. "That's… an interesting choice of words."

Aeliana's chest tightened as memories surfaced unbidden, pulling her into a storm of thoughts she had tried so hard to bury.

She remembered the sneer on Madeleina's face, the cruel words dripping with disdain as she stood above her. "You're not fit to lead anyone. Just stay out of the way—you're only dragging everyone down."

The memory twisted further, shifting to her father's stern, weary gaze as he spoke in measured tones about her engagement. "It's necessary for the family, Aeliana. We cannot continue like this."

She knew what he truly meant. It wasn't just about alliances or duty. Her illness, her weakness—it was a weight he could no longer carry.

Aeliana's knuckles turned white as she gripped the mug, her thoughts spiraling. I'm not just useless. I'm a liability. Because of me, he can't move forward. Because of me, the family is stuck in limbo.

Her nails dug into the ceramic, the heat of the tea barely registering against the cold ache settling in her chest.

Luca's voice pulled her from the depths of her mind. "You really believe that?" he asked, his tone softer now, almost gentle.

She glanced up at him, startled by the shift in his expression. His smirk was gone, replaced by a look that was both serious and searching.

"It's not about believing," she said bitterly, her voice low. "It's the truth."

Luca leaned back, his dark eyes drifting toward the cavern's jagged ceiling. His expression shifted into something thoughtful, the smirk softening into a faint curve that seemed more contemplative than amused.

"What do we mean by the word 'useful'?" he said aloud, his voice quiet but deliberate, as if he were speaking both to Aeliana and to himself.

Aeliana blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone.

"Does being useful mean helping people?" Luca continued, his gaze tracing the flickering shadows cast by the firelight. "Or is it about achieving ambitions—tools we 'use' along the way to get what we want?"

His words hung in the air, weaving into the quiet of the cavern. He glanced at her briefly, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he looked back to the fire.

"If that's what defines being useful," he said slowly, "then does it mean your life exists only to serve someone else's ambitions? To be a stepping stone for their goals?" He shook his head slightly, his voice tinged with a faint sadness. "Isn't that such a tragic way to live?"

The question lingered in Aeliana's mind, his words striking chords she had never dared to touch. What does it mean to be useful? she thought, her fingers trembling slightly against the ceramic mug.

Her whole life had been built on the idea of utility—serving her family, protecting their legacy, living up to their expectations. She had never questioned it before, never stopped to consider if there could be more.

Luca's voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts, his tone still calm but tinged with quiet intensity. "Sure," he said, "we all have responsibilities. Some people enjoy privileges that others don't, and with privilege comes a price. That's just how life works."

He paused, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "For instance, you. As the daughter of a duke, you must've had access to things most people could only dream of—resources, education, security."

Aeliana stiffened, her jaw tightening as she braced herself for the inevitable judgment she had heard so many times before.

"But," Luca continued, his voice steady, "at the same time, didn't you pay the price for it? By getting this illness?"

Her eyes widened slightly, the question catching her off guard.

"In this sense," Luca said, his gaze locking onto hers, "do you not deserve to live? To exist for more than just being 'useful' to someone else? Haven't you already paid enough?"

The mug in her hands felt heavier somehow, the warmth of the tea no longer reaching her as his words sank in.

Deserve to live. The idea was foreign, almost incomprehensible to her. Her whole life had been a series of exchanges—a cycle of privilege and burden, obligation and sacrifice. She had never once stopped to think about what she deserved.

"I…" she started, her voice faltering as the words caught in her throat.

Luca leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied her carefully. "It's not about whether you've been useful to someone else, Aeliana," he said, his tone softer now, almost gentle. "It's about whether you've been fair to yourself."

Her chest tightened, her amber eyes dropping to the fire as she struggled to process what he was saying.

Fair to herself? When had that ever been an option?

"You don't have to answer now," Luca added, his smirk returning faintly as he leaned back. "But just think about it. Being useful is overrated anyway."

Hearing his words she questioned.

But at the same time, she felt something.

A feeling that she knew she was not supposed to feel.

'What do you know?'

Chapter 409: What do you know ? (2)

Luca's words hung in the air like the crackling embers of the fire, their weight pressing into Aeliana's chest. The quiet, contemplative way he spoke—like he had the answers, like he understood something profound—gnawed at her in a way she couldn't describe.

She stared at the flames, her jaw tightening as her thoughts churned. Fair to myself? Deserve to live? The questions dug at her, pulling at the carefully constructed walls she had built around her mind.

But with every word he had spoken, irritation bubbled up alongside the unease.

What does he even know?

Her grip on the mug tightened, her knuckles whitening. She shot a glare at him, her anger simmering just below the surface. Luca sat there, so composed, so unbothered, as if he held some kind of higher understanding.

It grated on her.

Finally, the frustration broke through.

"What do you even know?!" she snapped, her voice sharp and trembling with barely contained anger.

Luca blinked, his dark eyes flicking to her, his expression unreadable.

"You sit there talking like you've got it all figured out," Aeliana continued, her voice rising. Her hands trembled as she clutched the mug, her emotions spilling out in a torrent she couldn't control. "Like you've unlocked the secret to life or something!"

Luca stayed silent, his gaze steady but calm, which only fueled her irritation further.

"You don't know anything!" she shouted, her voice cracking. Her chest heaved, and her amber eyes burned with unshed tears. "You don't know what it's like to feel like this. To be so weak that you can't do anything for yourself or the people who depend on you!"

She slammed the mug down onto the ground beside her, the sound ringing sharply through the cavern.

"You're strong!" she spat, her voice shaking with bitterness. "Of course, you can talk like that—like life is some grand adventure to embrace. You have power. You have talent. You're not the one stuck in this… this useless body, holding everyone back!"

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her anger burning as hot as the fire between them.

Then her voice rose further, her anger spilling over like a dam that had finally broken. Her chest heaved, and her amber eyes burned with frustration, despair, and something rawer—something that had festered for far too long.

"You must have lived your life as one of the strongest," she snarled, her voice trembling. "You've probably never even had to think about what it feels like to be weak! You don't know how it feels to try—really try—as hard as you can and still get nothing! To fail over and over again, no matter how much you push yourself!"

Her words came faster now, tumbling over each other in a torrent of emotion. "You've never had to watch your father—your own father—look at you like you're just a piece of garbage. Like you're a burden he can't wait to get rid of. Like you're nothing!"

Her fists clenched tightly, her nails digging into her palms as her voice cracked under the weight of her words. "You've never seen the people you love—the people you thought loved you—turn their backs on you. Leave you behind like you were nothing more than a mistake they wish they could forget."

Her breath hitched, and tears welled in her eyes as she continued, her voice shaking with fury and heartbreak. "Just now, I—" She swallowed hard, her voice faltering for a moment before she pushed on, the bitterness in her tone cutting like a blade. "I was betrayed. By someone I trusted. Someone I thought cared about me. Do you even know how that feels? To be pushed into the abyss by someone you gave your heart to?"

Her words echoed through the cavern, the firelight casting flickering shadows across her trembling form. She was standing now, though she couldn't remember when she had risen to her feet, her body shaking with the force of her emotions.

"And you—" she pointed at Luca, her voice rising again as she glared at him through tear-filled eyes. "You sit there with that stupid smirk, acting like you have the answers to everything. Like you understand me, like you can just fix everything with your stupid words!"

She let out a harsh, bitter laugh, her voice dripping with venom. "You don't know anything!"

For a moment, the cavern was silent except for the crackle of the fire and Aeliana's ragged breathing. Her chest heaved, her hands trembling at her sides as she stared at Luca, daring him to respond, to defend himself, to say anything that would justify the calm, collected way he had been speaking.

But Luca didn't speak right away. He didn't snap back or try to argue. He didn't even smirk. Instead, he simply sat there, his dark eyes watching her with an unreadable expression.

No.

That expression. It was not unreadable.

It was a little different.

That smirk-filled face shifted slightly, the ever-present smirk faltering just enough for Aeliana to notice. His dark eyes, usually so sharp and teasing, seemed distant now as if something within them had dulled.

He tried to smile, but Aeliana caught it—the faint twitch of his muscles, the way his lips didn't quite curve naturally.

It wasn't because he found anything amusing.

She stared at him, and for the first time, she saw something beneath the surface. Something raw and unguarded that he was clearly trying to bury.

It was pain.

Not the sharp, fleeting kind that came and went like a passing wound, but the deep, lingering ache that etched itself into someone's soul.

And then, the smirk returned to his face.

It was the same on the surface, the same confident, infuriating grin that she had seen so many times before. But now, with her sharpened sensitivity to people's emotions, she could tell the difference.

It was a mask.

Most people wouldn't have noticed. Most wouldn't have looked close enough to see it. But Aeliana did. She had spent so long reading the subtle changes in people's faces, gauging their reactions to her—to her illness, her scars, her presence. She could see through his façade.

He was hiding.

"Does it matter if I know or not?" Luca asked, his voice softer now but steady.

Aeliana blinked, startled by the question. "What?"

"Do I have to know everything about you," he said, leaning forward slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers, "to understand a part of you? Just because someone hasn't experienced what it feels like to be a sheep, does that mean they can't empathize with the sheep when they see it being hunted by a wolf?"

His words cut through the haze of her anger, piercing something deeper.

Aeliana hesitated, her chest tightening as she stared at him. "That's… not the same," she muttered, though her voice wavered.

"Isn't it?" Luca asked, his tone calm but unrelenting. "Maybe I don't know every detail of what you've been through. Maybe I'll never understand exactly how it feels to be you. But that doesn't mean I can't see your pain. That I can't care about it."

Her breath hitched, her hands trembling at her sides.

"Or, rather." Luca tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes holding Aeliana's gaze with unrelenting intensity. "Are you scared?" he asked, his voice low and steady, cutting through the tense air like a blade.

Aeliana stiffened, the question catching her off guard. "Scared?" she echoed, her tone sharp. "Who's scared?"

His gaze didn't falter. "Really?" he pressed, his voice calm but insistent. "Are you really not scared? Or are you hiding behind your illness now, trying to use it as a last wall of defense?"

Her breath caught, and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"At this point," Luca continued, leaning forward slightly, his tone unwavering, "have you not already accepted your fate? Are you not just beating around the bush, convincing yourself you're still fighting, just to feel relevant?"

The words hit her like a physical blow, her chest tightening as anger flared up to mask the ache those words stirred. "What do you know?!" she snapped, her voice trembling with a mixture of fury and hurt.

"I know what I see," Luca replied, his tone steady. "And what I see is someone who's trapped—not because of her illness, but because she's convinced herself that nothing can change."

"You don't know how it feels!" Aeliana shouted, her voice cracking as her emotions spilled out. "You don't know what it's like to try everything—every treatment, every doctor, every damn thing people tell you to do—and still… still have nothing work!"

Her chest heaved, her amber eyes blazing as tears threatened to spill over.

"What am I supposed to do then, huh?" she continued, her voice breaking. "Just keep trying again and again, over and over? Do you know how tiring that is? Do you know how it feels to pour every ounce of hope you have into something, only to have it crushed every single time?"

Luca stayed silent for a long moment, his gaze dropping to the fire as Aeliana's words echoed through the cavern. His shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath, and then, almost too quiet to hear, he mumbled something under his breath.

"I know."

Aeliana blinked, her anger momentarily faltering. "What?" she asked sharply.

But Luca didn't repeat himself. Instead, he turned his dark eyes back to her, a faint, unreadable smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Then," he said, his tone light but carrying an edge of seriousness, "what if I say you can be cured?"

The words hit her like a thunderclap.

Chapter 410: What if I say

"What if I say you can be cured?"

Her eyes widened, disbelief flashing across her face before it twisted into something far sharper. Her hands clenched into trembling fists, her nails digging into her palms as anger surged like wildfire through her chest.

"What did you just say?" she hissed, her voice low and trembling with barely restrained fury.

Luca raised a brow, seemingly unfazed by the sudden shift in her demeanor. "I said—"

"I heard what you said!" she snapped, her voice rising. Her amber eyes blazed with a mix of fury and pain as she glared at him, her body trembling. "How dare you say something like that?"

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off, her voice trembling as years of bitterness and heartbreak poured out.

"Do you have any idea what you're saying?!" she shouted. "Do you know how many people have come to me with promises like that? How many liars have claimed they could cure me?"

Her chest heaved as her anger boiled over, every word laced with the weight of her past. "They gave me hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. That I wouldn't have to live like this anymore."

She laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and filled with venom. "And every single time, it was a lie. A joke! They took my hope and crushed it like it was nothing. Do you know what that does to someone?!"

Luca's expression remained calm, but his eyes flickered with something deeper—an emotion he didn't let fully surface.

"I hate them," Aeliana spat, her voice cracking as her emotions spilled over. "I hate all of them. And now, you're sitting here, saying the same thing—just throwing it out there like it's nothing!"

She took a step closer to him, her fists trembling at her sides. "Do you think I'm some kind of fool? That I'd fall for something like that again?"

The cavern was silent except for her ragged breathing, the firelight flickering across her furious expression.

Luca met her gaze steadily, his calm demeanor never wavering. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, steady, and strangely gentle.

"No," he said simply. "I don't think you're a fool. And I'm not here to lie to you."

Her breath hitched, her anger faltering for a moment as his words settled over her.

"Then why say it?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation.

Luca tilted his head slightly, his expression softening. "Because I'm not them. And because I think you're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Aeliana's fists tightened, her chest heaving as she stared at him, her emotions warring within her. She didn't know whether to scream, cry, or collapse.

Aeliana's amber eyes narrowed, her chest tightening as Luca's words settled over her. The softness in his tone, the calmness in his expression—it felt like a trap, a cruel mockery meant to break her down further.

"You're mocking me," she said, her voice trembling with fury. "You're trying to make me angry. You're just… trying to humiliate me."

Luca shook his head, his dark eyes steady. "I'm not mocking you," he said quietly. "And I don't lie."

Her fists clenched tighter, her nails digging into her palms as her emotions swirled into a storm. "If you really want to be cured," he continued, his voice low but resolute, "you will."

"Liar," she spat, her voice sharp and full of venom.

"I don't lie," Luca repeated, his tone unwavering.

"No," she said, shaking her head as her anger boiled over. "No, you're lying! You're just lying!"

"I'm not," he said simply, his expression calm despite the storm of her emotions raging before him.

"Why?!" she shouted, the desperation in her voice rising with every word. "Why should I trust you? Why? I don't even know you! I just met you! How can you stand there and claim that you can cure me?!"

Without realizing it, Aeliana had crossed the distance between them. Her trembling finger jabbed toward his face, the anger pouring out of her in waves. It was a gesture she hadn't made in years—something from a time when she had been confident, outspoken, unafraid to stand her ground.

Luca didn't flinch. He simply raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his expression unchanging. "You're right," he said calmly, his voice even. "On all of it."

Aeliana blinked, startled by his response.

"You don't know me," Luca continued, his tone steady and measured. "You just met me. And yes, you've been watching me since yesterday, but that doesn't change anything. Everything you've said is valid."

He lowered his hands slowly, his gaze holding hers. "You have no reason to trust me. None at all."

Her chest heaved, her finger still trembling as it hovered near his face. "Then why say it?" she whispered, her voice cracking with the weight of her emotions.

"Because," Luca said, his smirk softening into something gentler, "it's the truth. Whether you trust me or not, it doesn't change that."

The silence between them was deafening, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Aeliana stared at him, her mind a whirlwind of disbelief, anger, and something she couldn't quite name.

His calm, unwavering confidence in his words struck a chord in her, forcing her to question whether he really was just mocking her—or if, somehow, he truly believed what he was saying.

Her hand dropped to her side, her shoulders slumping as her anger began to waver. But the doubt still lingered, clawing at the edges of her thoughts.

"I don't… understand you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

"And you don't have to," Luca replied, his tone light but sincere. "Not yet, anyway. But maybe you can start by understanding that not everyone is here to hurt you."

The words hung in the air, their weight settling over her as she struggled to process the man standing before her. For the first time in years, she felt the faintest flicker of something she thought she had lost long ago. A fragile, fleeting thing.

Hope.

Aeliana's fingers trembled as her hand fell back to her side. The spark of hope that flickered in her chest felt like a fragile ember, faint but undeniable. Yet, as quickly as it came, fear surged to snuff it out.

Hope was terrifying.

Because she knew what it felt like to cling to it—to let it wrap around her, lift her, promise her that things could change—only for it to shatter and leave her in a darker place than before.

Her chest tightened, her amber eyes flicking back to Luca's steady gaze. He stood there, unyielding, his presence both infuriating and strangely grounding.

"It's scary," she murmured, her voice so soft it barely carried over the crackling fire.

"What is?" Luca asked, his tone light but lacking its usual teasing edge.

"Hope," she admitted, her voice trembling. "It's… terrifying. Because I know how it feels when it's crushed. When it disappears and leaves nothing but emptiness."

Luca watched her carefully, his dark eyes never leaving hers. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand, reaching out.

Aeliana stiffened as his fingers brushed against hers—light, tentative, like he was testing the weight of the moment. His touch was warm, steady, in stark contrast to the icy fear twisting inside her.

"How about this?" he said, his voice calm and steady. "Until we leave this place, I'll escort you. Stick by your side. And along the way…"

His fingers shifted slightly, gently brushing her pointed index finger, before he straightened.

"You can decide whether you want to trust me or not."

Aeliana's breath hitched, her hand trembling at her side as she stared at him.

His words hung between them, soft but firm, like a rope extended across a chasm she wasn't sure she could cross.

She wanted to retort, to reject the offer, to push him away and keep the walls she had built around herself intact. But the faint flicker of warmth in his gaze—the same warmth that had defied every expectation she had of him—made her hesitate.

"And if I don't?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Luca smirked, though it was softer this time, less a shield and more a gentle curve of his lips. "Then you don't," he said simply. "But at least you'll know you had the choice."

Her chest tightened again, the weight of his words pressing against the fragile walls she had spent years building. For a moment, she felt like she was teetering on the edge of something unknown, something dangerous.

And yet…

"Fine," she said quietly, the word barely audible as her gaze dropped to the fire. "But don't think this means I trust you."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Luca replied, his smirk widening just enough to remind her of his infuriating confidence.

But as she glanced back at him, the faintest trace of a smile flickered across her lips—so faint it barely existed, but it was there.

And for the first time in years, the terrifying ember of hope remained, fragile but unbroken.

Chapter 411: Little Ember

Lucavion leaned back against the cavern wall, the flickering firelight casting long shadows across his face. His dark eyes flicked toward Aeliana, who had drifted into a restless but peaceful sleep not long after drinking the tea he'd prepared. Her delicate frame was curled slightly on her side, her breathing slow and even, the tension that had gripped her features finally softened.

He tilted his head, watching her with a faint smirk tugging at his lips. For all her fiery words and defiant glare, there was something almost childlike in the way she slept—vulnerable, as though she'd let her guard down for the first time in a long while.

"What a needy girl," he muttered under his breath, the words laced with a mix of exasperation and quiet amusement. His tone was soft, his voice barely carrying over the crackle of the fire.

His smirk faltered slightly as his gaze lingered on her. The warmth of the firelight played against her pale features, and for a moment, he thought about the weight of her words earlier—about her anger, her pain, her despair. It wasn't the first time he had seen someone so trapped within themselves, but there was something different about Aeliana. Something raw. Something unfinished.

'What drives you to hold on, even when you think you've already given up?' he wondered, his smirk fading entirely into something more contemplative. 'You're stronger than you think, but it's buried so deep you don't even see it.'

He rested his forearm on his knee, his fingers idly tapping against his blade's hilt as he turned his gaze back to the fire. The shadows danced wildly, mirroring the restless thoughts that flickered through his mind.

'I suppose that's why I can't quite leave you alone.'

The thought surprised even him, and he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "You're trouble," he murmured, glancing back at her sleeping form. "And I seem to attract it."

But there was no malice in his words, no bitterness. If anything, there was a faint trace of something warmer—an echo of the quiet care that had driven him to pull her away from the abyss earlier, even at his own expense.

He shifted slightly, pulling his coat tighter around himself as the firelight began to dim. His [Flame of Equinox] stirred faintly within him, and with a flick of his hand, he added a gentle pulse of mana to the embers, coaxing them back to life.

The soft glow filled the cavern once more, chasing away the chill of the night. Lucavion leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closing briefly.

"Rest up, little ember," he murmured softly, more to himself than to her. "You've got a long way to go."

The faintest hint of a smile played on his lips as he allowed the calm of the moment to settle over him. For now, at least, the storm of their shared journey had quieted.

His gaze drifted over Aeliana's sleeping form, his smirk fading as the faint flicker of firelight illuminated the dark marks that sprawled across her body. They crept up her neck, coiling around her arms, and vanished beneath the folds of her clothing. On her pale face, which was already devoid of the warmth most people took for granted, the black streaks distorted her features further, adding an unnatural sharpness that even sleep couldn't smooth away.

He exhaled softly, his dark eyes narrowing as he leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand. 'No wonder she sees herself this way.' The marks were more than just blemishes—they were scars, visible evidence of the weight she carried every day. A reminder of her affliction, her supposed weakness, and the rejection she'd endured because of it.

To most, it was no doubt a reflection of what she had come to believe about herself: that she was broken. Ugly. Unworthy. He could see how those thoughts would fester, how they would grow like a shadow cast by the black lines on her skin.

But to him, the marks were just that—marks. Evidence of a story still being written, of struggles endured but not yet lost.

He tilted his head slightly, his voice soft but firm as he murmured, "But well, whether you trust me or not, you're going to get cured. No matter what."

His words hung in the air, low and resolute. They weren't a declaration for her to hear or an empty promise meant to soothe her fears. They were a statement of intent, a quiet vow spoken to himself. After all, her curing process had already begun, whether she realized it or not.

There was a reason why he had sought her out, why he had gone to such lengths to ensure they crossed paths here of all places. This wasn't just a coincidence. Lucavion knew this place, and understood its significance far better than most. It had been described in painstaking detail in Shattered Innocence, nestled within one of the side stories between the volumes—a fleeting yet critical event that served as a hinge for the larger narrative.

The descriptions came back to him now, vivid and precise. The mysterious ruins, the vortexes that warped space, the corrupted energy that seeped into everything—this place was more than just dangerous. It was alive with possibilities, a crossroads where paths converged and fates were rewritten.

And at the center of it all, Aeliana.

'This is where it starts,' Lucavion thought, his dark gaze sharpening as it lingered on her sleeping face. 'The point where everything changes for you.'

Her cure wouldn't come easily. It would take more than just the right circumstances and the right place. There were trials ahead, choices she'd have to make, and truths she'd have to face. But he'd brought her here because he knew—knew with the certainty of someone who had read her story before it had ever been written—that this was where she would find the chance to reclaim herself.

His smirk returned, faint but laced with a quiet determination. 'You might hate me now, little ember. You might never trust me. But trust isn't what matters.'

He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms as his gaze flicked to the flickering firelight. The embers mirrored the faint glow of [Flame of Equinox] deep within his core, its warmth steadying him in the chill of the cavern.

'What matters is that you'll burn bright again.'

With that thought, he allowed his eyes to close briefly, the faint crackle of the fire and the soft rhythm of Aeliana's breathing filling the cavern. For now, he let the quiet settle, knowing that the storm wasn't over yet.

It was just the eye.

******

Aeliana's eyes fluttered open, the dim glow of firelight greeting her. The gentle crackle of flames filled the air, a soft rhythm that coaxed her fully into wakefulness. For a moment, she lay still, her mind hazy as she tried to piece together where she was.

Then it all came back.

The cavern. The fire. Luca.

She sat up slowly, her fingers brushing against the cool stone beneath her. The faint ache of exhaustion lingered in her limbs, but it was dulled now, muted by the warmth of rest and the lingering fullness from her earlier meal.

Her amber eyes scanned the space, noting the faint shadows flickering along the jagged walls. The fire still burned steadily in the center of the cavern, but the place felt emptier, quieter.

Luca was gone.

Aeliana's brow furrowed as she glanced around, her gaze darting to the cavern entrance and then to the scattered belongings nearby. His pack was still there, the makeshift bedroll untouched.

She pushed herself to her feet, her movements slow and careful as she adjusted to the faint dizziness that clung to her.

"Hm…" she murmured, her voice quiet as she steadied herself.

Wrapping her arms around her midsection, she stepped closer to the fire, the warmth seeping into her skin. She stared into the dancing flames.

'Where did he go?'

The question lingered in her mind, a flicker of unease creeping in. She wasn't sure whether it was his absence or the fact that she was even concerned about it that bothered her more.

Her gaze flicked to the cavern entrance again, and she took a hesitant step toward it, her bare feet brushing against the rough stone. The cool air wafted in from outside, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth.

"Did he just… leave?" she muttered under her breath, the thought sparking a mix of irritation and confusion.

"I did not."

Aeliana flinched at the sound of his voice, sharp and calm, cutting through her thoughts like the crackle of the fire. Her amber eyes snapped to the entrance of the cavern as Luca's figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into the warm glow of the flames.

Her breath hitched.

There was blood smeared across his clothes and the faint sheen of sweat on his brow. His dark hair clung slightly to his forehead, and faint scratches marred his exposed skin. Over his shoulder, he carried what looked like the remnants of a creature—its limp form dangling lifelessly, its scaled hide torn in places.

Her chest tightened, unease twisting in her stomach. "You…" she started, her voice wavering slightly. "What… happened?"

Luca dropped the creature unceremoniously near the fire, brushing his hands together as if ridding them of invisible dust. He glanced at her, his smirk faint but present, though it lacked its usual arrogance.

"Monsters," he said simply, his tone casual as though he were discussing the weather. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Her eyes flicked to the blood on his shirt, then back to his face. "You fought them?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Obviously." He crouched down by the fire, his movements unhurried, and grabbed a nearby cloth to clean his hands. "They were getting too close. Couldn't have them stumbling in here, could we?"

Aeliana stared at him, her thoughts spinning. Despite his usual confidence, there was something grounding about the way he spoke—like it was just another task he had taken upon himself without question.

"You…" She trailed off, her throat tightening.

Luca glanced up, his dark eyes locking onto hers. He tilted his head slightly, his expression softening. "Remember," he said, his voice quiet but steady. "I promised. I'm not leaving you here."

Her breath hitched again, his words cutting through her doubts with disarming ease. The fear, the uncertainty, the lingering anger—all of it seemed to waver, replaced by something quieter, something she didn't quite know how to name.

"Why?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound composed. "Why go that far?"

Luca leaned back slightly, his smirk returning, though it carried a faint edge of weariness now. "Because I said I would," he replied simply.

The simplicity of his words struck her harder than she expected, leaving her momentarily speechless.

He glanced at the creature's body, then back to her. "If you're feeling strong enough, maybe you can use that gourmet expertise of yours to tell me if this thing's edible," he said, his tone light and teasing.

Aeliana blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt shift in tone. "You're ridiculous," she muttered, though there was no bite in her words.

"I hear that a lot."

He answered with a smile.