The last automaton collapsed with a tallic crash, its body scattering sparks before going still. Silence rolled back over the chamber, heavy and suffocating.
Noel staggered a step, Revenant Fang still thrumming faintly in his grip, the cursed edge drinking in the remnants of his mana. His lungs burned, his ribs ached, but the worst was the exhaustion flooding every part of him.
Selene lowered her wand slowly, the glow fading until only the faint shimr of frost clung to her lashes. She stood straight, her breathing steady, but Noel didn’t miss the way her shoulders shifted, tension bleeding out after the storm she had unleashed.
Then the ground trembled.
The statue of Elarin groaned, stone grinding against stone. Cracks of light spread across the floor before the base shifted aside with a deep rumble. Dust poured from the seams as a hidden passage revealed itself—an opening wide enough for them to walk through, yet swallowed in pitch-black shadow.
Noel’s hand tightened around his sword. "Great. Another surprise."
Selene’s eyes narrowed, sharp even in the gloom. "It isn’t a trap. At least, not yet. The chanism only revealed the passage."
They both stared at the entrance. The air pouring from it was cold, older than the dust they’d just fought through, and it carried the weight of sothing waiting.
Noel exhaled, leaning his back against the wall. His arms trembled, fatigue weighing down every breath. "We’re not walking into that like this. If I collapse halfway, you’ll be dragging out."
Selene’s gaze lingered on him, expression unreadable. Then she inclined her head once. "We need rest first. Entering like this is suicide."
Noel slid down the wall until he sat on the cold stone floor, Revenant Fang resting across his lap. His chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm, every breath sharp against bruised ribs. The cursed blade still pulsed faintly, as if feeding on the aftermath of battle.
Selene stood a few steps away, wand lowered but her gaze fixed on him. Her expression was calm, but her eyes betrayed calculation. She spoke at last, voice steady and cold. "Take off your shirt."
Noel blinked. "Excuse ?"
"You’re bleeding. Unless you want to keep tearing yourself open, do as I say."
He let out a humorless chuckle, but the pain in his ribs killed any protest. With a reluctant sigh, he tugged his shirt over his head. The fabric stuck to dried blood before peeling free, leaving his torso bare in the dim glow of the mana crystals.
Selene’s breath caught, though she masked it quickly. His body was marked by battle—fresh cuts across his arms and shoulders, bruises darkening over his ribs, and countless scars old and new etched into his skin. Each one a reminder of how many tis he had stood at the edge of death.
Her hand hovered for a mont before cold light glowed at the tip of her wand. She knelt beside him, pressing the spell into his skin. Frost spread gently across the wounds, sealing flesh with biting precision.
Noel exhaled as the pain dulled. ’She doesn’t need to see this. These scars aren’t sothing to admire. They’re proof of everything I’ve broken just to survive.’
Selene said nothing, but her fingers tightened around the wand. She traced another scar with her magic, lips parting slightly before she forced herself to stay silent.
The quiet between them grew heavier than before.
Selene’s magic flowed with steady rhythm, each wound knitting under her careful control. The cold sting dulled into numbness, leaving Noel’s body marked but no longer bleeding.
Then, for a heartbeat, her hands stilled. The glow at the tip of her wand flickered faintly.
Unbidden, the mory struck her—his lips against hers, the impulsive kiss she had stolen. She rembered the heat of it, the words that had followed: that he couldn’t decide anything without Elyra, Elena, and Charlotte. That they were already bound to him.
Her chest tightened, though her face betrayed nothing. ’Why am I thinking about it now? Focus, Selene.’
Noel raised a brow, noticing the sudden stillness. "Have you finished already?"
Her fingers twitched. "...No."
The glow flared back to life, sharper than before, as she pressed the healing frost deeper into his side. She didn’t let herself et his eyes, afraid he might catch the faint tremor in her composure.
Noel studied her for a mont longer. The way her hand lingered, the precision of her movents—sothing about it felt off. He smirked faintly, though inside he was unsettled. ’She’s hiding sothing. Better to let it go.’
The silence between them stretched, thick with words unsaid. Noel leaned his head back against the stone, eyes closing briefly as her cold magic seeped through him.
Selene forced her breathing steady, focusing entirely on the wounds. Yet no matter how hard she tried, the ghost of that kiss lingered, refusing to fade.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The chamber remained quiet, broken only by the faint drip of water from the ceiling and the soft crackle of frozen tal.
Then a low sound echoed faintly. Selene froze.
Noel’s eyes flicked toward her. "...Was that your stomach?"
Her cheeks colored just slightly, the tiniest break in her composure. She turned her head aside. "..."
Noel smirked, leaning forward. "Want sothing to eat?"
There was a long pause before she gave the smallest nod, stiff and reluctant, as if admitting weakness cost her more than the battle had.
Noel sighed, tugging at his belt until he found the small pouch hooked to his side. The Dinsional Pouch shimred faintly as he pulled it open, retrieving a bundle of dried rations and a flask of water. He set them down between them.
"Not much of a feast," he muttered, tearing one pack open, "but it beats starving."
Selene accepted the food with quiet hands, avoiding his gaze. She bit into it slowly, her posture still perfect, though the faint pink on her ears betrayed her embarrassnt.
Noel chewed without ceremony, leaning back against the wall. ’Better that she eats. After what her mother did to her, after all those years of being starved on purpose... I can’t let her go hungry. Not again. Not while I’m here at least, I don’t want to make her rember her past days.’
For a mont, the air between them felt almost normal—two people sharing a break instead of survivors trapped in a cursed sanctuary.
When the last crumbs were gone, Noel pushed himself to his feet, rolling his shoulders. His ribs still hurt, but at least he could stand tall.
The passage yawned open behind the statue, dark and silent, waiting.
Selene rose as well, wand in hand, composure restored. "We move."
Noel glanced at her, smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah. Let’s see what else this place is hiding."
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