Chapter 12: Embers in the Dark

The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the warm glow of the campfire spread across the clearing as the group gathered for dinner. The air was filled with the scent of burning wood and the distant crackle of the flames, a soft hum of chatter coming from the students as they settled in for the evening. The day had been long, filled with activities and exploration, but now the mood had shifted into something quieter, more reflective.

Dorian stood near the fire, clipboard still in hand, his fingers absently running over the edges of the paper. His mind was calmer now, though the weight of his earlier encounter with Rhys still lingered in the back of his thoughts. The way Rhys had spoken to him, the way he had understood without pushing—it had been enough to ground Dorian in a way he hadn't expected.

But the storm hadn't passed entirely. Dorian still felt it, the tension coiling just beneath his skin, the need to stay in control fighting against the quiet urge to let go.

As the flames flickered in front of him, casting warm shadows across his face, Dorian's focus slipped, and the tight grip he held on his responsibilities loosened, if only for a moment. He was supposed to lead the group through the final briefing for the night, but the constant strain had taken its toll. The world around him felt too loud, too heavy.

Just as Dorian's grip on the clipboard faltered, a presence moved beside him, quiet and calm.

Kaelen.

Dorian blinked, surprised to see him there, though he quickly straightened, pulling his composure back into place. "Everything okay?" He asked, his voice steady but tinged with exhaustion.

Kaelen gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes reflecting the glow of the fire. "Everything's under control. You've done well today, but you don't have to carry it all by yourself."

Dorian froze, his heart giving an unexpected jolt at the words. It wasn't just the quiet authority in Kaelen's voice that struck him—it was the gentleness, the way Kaelen seemed to know exactly how much weight Dorian had been carrying without saying a word.

"I'm fine," Dorian said quickly, though the words felt hollow, even to him. "It's my job to make sure everything runs smoothly."

Kaelen's gaze didn't waver, his calm presence somehow both comforting and unnerving. "That doesn't mean you have to do it alone."

For a moment, Dorian didn't know how to respond. The words lingered in the air between them, carrying a weight that Dorian couldn't quite understand. There was something about Kaelen—something steady, something that felt almost familiar, though Dorian couldn't place it. It was as if Kaelen knew him in a way no one else did, and that quiet understanding made Dorian's chest tighten.

Without waiting for a response, Kaelen stepped closer, his movements smooth and assured as he reached for the clipboard in Dorian's hands. "Let me help."

Dorian hesitated for a split second, his instinct to refuse rising quickly, but before he could protest, Kaelen gently took the clipboard from him. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent a wave of relief through Dorian's tired body—like a burden he hadn't realized he was carrying had finally been lifted.

Kaelen's hands moved deftly as he scanned the list, his sharp eyes flicking over the details with practiced ease. "You've organized everything well," He said, his tone light but with a hint of approval. "The students are lucky to have someone as focused as you leading them."

Dorian's lips parted, but the words caught in his throat. He didn't know why, but the quiet praise from Kaelen hit harder than expected, filling him with a sense of validation he hadn't known he needed. He had grown so used to carrying the weight of responsibility alone, always striving for perfection, that he had forgotten what it felt like to have someone step in and offer help—genuine, unspoken help.

"Thank you," Dorian murmured, his voice soft, almost unsure.

Kaelen glanced at him, his expression unreadable but not unkind. "You're welcome."

For a long moment, they stood together in the glow of the fire, the clipboard now resting in Kaelen's hands as he carefully went over the last few details. Dorian watched him, his mind racing with questions he couldn't quite articulate. There was something about Kaelen—something that pulled at the edges of Dorian's memory, something deep and unspoken.

"You seem familiar," Dorian said suddenly, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Kaelen paused for a fraction of a second, his hand stilling over the clipboard, though his expression didn't change. "Do I?"

Dorian frowned, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together the fragments of thought in his mind. "I don't know. It's just... there's something about you."

Kaelen's eyes met Dorian's then, and for the briefest moment, something flickered in the depths of his gaze—something deep, something personal. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the same calm, steady expression that Kaelen always wore.

"I've been around for a while," Kaelen said smoothly, his voice soft but firm. "Maybe we've crossed paths before."

Dorian nodded slowly, though the answer didn't feel quite right. Still, he couldn't dwell on it now. There were too many other things demanding his attention, too many other responsibilities pulling him in different directions.

But as Kaelen handed the clipboard back to him, Dorian couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this man than he was letting on.

"Don't hesitate to ask for help," Kaelen said quietly, his voice low enough that only Dorian could hear. "You don't have to carry everything alone."

Dorian swallowed hard, the weight of Kaelen's words sinking deep into his chest. For a moment, he considered arguing, considered pulling his usual mask of control back into place. But something about Kaelen's presence made him pause. Maybe he didn't have to do this alone.

Maybe, just maybe, there were people who could help him.

"Thanks," Dorian said again, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kaelen gave him a small nod, his gaze lingering for a second longer before he stepped back, leaving Dorian alone with the flickering warmth of the fire and the quiet hum of the group gathered around it.

As Dorian watched him walk away, his mind raced with questions—questions he wasn't ready to ask, not yet. But there was one thing he knew for sure: Kaelen wasn't just a guide. There was something deeper, something Dorian couldn't quite grasp yet. And it left him feeling both curious and unsettled.

But for now, he had more pressing matters to focus on.

The students were gathering around the fire, the soft glow of the flames casting dancing shadows across their faces as they prepared for dinner. Dorian took a slow breath, his grip on the clipboard tightening as he stepped forward, ready to give the final instructions for the night.

But in the back of his mind, Kaelen's words echoed quietly, and for the first time in a long time, Dorian allowed himself to believe that maybe—just maybe—he didn't have to carry everything on his own.

_

As the group settled in around the fire, the crackle of burning wood and soft laughter filled the night air. The students were huddled together, the warmth of the flames keeping the chill at bay as they passed around mugs of hot chocolate and shared stories from the day. There was a sense of calm now—a feeling of togetherness that had been missing during the hectic schedule of the trip.

Dorian stood just outside the circle, his clipboard still in hand, the weight of his responsibilities never far from his mind. But as he looked around at the group, seeing the easy smiles and relaxed conversations, something inside him loosened. Maybe it was the warmth of the fire, or maybe it was the subtle support he had felt from Kaelen earlier, but for the first time in what felt like days, the tension in his chest began to ease.

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as he prepared to give the final briefing for the night.

"Alright, everyone," Dorian called, his voice steady but softer than usual. "Just a quick reminder before we wrap up for the evening. Tomorrow, we'll be splitting into smaller groups for the hikes, so make sure you're prepared. Stick with your assigned guide, follow instructions, and stay safe."

The students nodded, their attention focused on Dorian, though their earlier excitement had settled into a quiet contentment.

"We'll have breakfast at 7 AM sharp," Dorian continued, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Get some rest tonight. It's going to be a long day."

Satisfied that everything was in order, Dorian gave a small nod, about to turn and leave when a voice called out from the circle.

"Dorian," Emory said, their tone light but insistent. "Why don't you sit with us for a bit?"

Dorian blinked, caught off guard. "I've still got—"

"You've done enough for today," Emory interrupted, a playful smile tugging at their lips as they stood and motioned toward the empty spot near the fire. "Come on, President. Sit down for once."

Dorian hesitated, his instinct to refuse rising quickly. But before he could speak, the other students chimed in, their voices full of encouragement.

"Yeah, Dorian, take a break!"

"Come on, President, you deserve it!"

Dorian's eyes widened, the unexpected chorus of support catching him off guard. He opened his mouth to argue, but Emory was already moving, grabbing a guitar that had been leaning against one of the nearby benches and handing it to him.

"We know you play," Emory said, their grin widening as they gently placed the guitar in Dorian's hands. "How about a song?"

The rest of the group perked up at that, voices rising with excitement.

"Play something, Dorian!"

"Yeah, we want to hear you sing!"

Dorian's heart raced as he looked down at the guitar in his hands, the familiar weight of it settling over him like an old memory. He hadn't played in front of anyone in years—not since his childhood, when he had used music as a way to escape the pressures of his life. But here, now, with the warm glow of the fire and the gentle urging of his friends, something in him softened.

He could feel it—the quiet insistence from those around him, the unspoken desire for him to let go, just for a moment.

Dorian swallowed hard, his fingers lightly brushing the strings of the guitar as he glanced up at the group. They were all watching him, smiles on their faces, their eyes full of warmth and encouragement.

His gaze shifted, landing on Rhys and Kaelen, who stood side by side at the edge of the clearing. Both of them were watching him, their expressions softer than usual, their eyes filled with something unspoken. It wasn't pressure or expectation—it was quiet admiration, a kind of love that made Dorian's heart ache with something he couldn't quite name.

For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of everything threatening to pull him back into his shell. But then Rhys gave him a small, barely-there nod, and Kaelen's gaze softened even more, as if to say it's okay to let go.

And for once, Dorian believed them.

Taking a slow breath, Dorian's fingers moved over the strings, coaxing a soft, familiar melody from the guitar. The students quieted, their eyes still on him as he began to play, the gentle strumming filling the space between them. It was a song he had played countless times before—a song that reminded him of home, of the quiet moments when everything felt safe.

His voice was soft at first, almost hesitant, but as the notes filled the air, Dorian's confidence grew. The song was simple, heartfelt, the kind of melody that wrapped around the listener like a warm embrace. As he played, Dorian felt the tension in his chest ease even more, the weight of the day melting away with each strum of the guitar.

The group listened in silence, their expressions soft, the warmth of the fire reflecting in their eyes as they watched Dorian in a way they hadn't seen him before. He wasn't the strict, perfect president in this moment—he was just Dorian, a boy who had carried the world on his shoulders for far too long.

And for once, he let that world slip away.

When the final note faded into the night, there was a brief moment of stillness—of quiet awe—before the group erupted into applause, their voices filled with appreciation and admiration.

"That was amazing!"

"Why didn't you tell us you could play?"

Dorian's cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and pride as he handed the guitar back to Emory, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"I told you he needed to loosen up," Emory teased, though their voice was filled with warmth. "Great job, Dorian."

Dorian smiled, his heart lighter than it had been all day. "Thanks."

As the group settled back into their conversations, Dorian's gaze drifted once more to Rhys and Kaelen, who were still standing side by side, watching him with the same quiet admiration. There was something about the way they looked at him—something deep, something full of love and pride—that made Dorian's chest tighten.

For a moment, Rhys caught his eye and gave him a soft, genuine smile, one that made Dorian's heart skip a beat. And beside him, Kaelen's gaze lingered on Dorian for just a second longer, his eyes filled with something far too personal, far too intimate for a stranger.

But Dorian didn't pull away. He didn't run.

Instead, he allowed himself to stay in the warmth of the fire, surrounded by those who cared for him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt at peace.

_

The camp had quieted as the night wore on, the only sounds the soft crackle of the dying fire and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. The students had long since retreated to their cabins, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up to them. Inside the dimly lit cabin, the air was still, filled with the steady, quiet breathing of those who had fallen asleep.

Rhys, however, was wide awake.

He lay on his bunk, staring up at the ceiling, his mind too restless to find peace. The soft rise and fall of Dorian's breath from the bunk across the room was a constant reminder of the earlier moments by the fire—the warmth of Dorian's voice as he sang, the way he had let his guard down for once, showing a side of himself that Rhys had never seen before.

Dorian looked peaceful now, his features softened by sleep, the tension that usually lined his face nowhere to be found. It was a rare sight—one that Rhys couldn't help but admire.

He didn't want to disturb him.

With a quiet sigh, Rhys pushed himself out of bed, careful not to make a sound as he slipped into his shoes. His thoughts were too tangled, too knotted up with emotions he hadn't been prepared for. He needed air—needed space to clear his head.

The cool night breeze greeted him as he stepped outside, the stars scattered across the sky like tiny pinpricks of light. The air smelled of pine and earth, the forest around him alive with the soft whispers of the trees. Rhys stuffed his hands into his pockets, walking aimlessly toward the edge of the clearing, letting the stillness of the night settle into his bones.

His thoughts, however, were anything but still.

Dorian had been on his mind constantly—more than he cared to admit. What had started as a playful challenge, something to entertain himself with, had quickly turned into something far more complicated. Rhys wasn't used to feeling this way—wasn't used to caring about someone this deeply. But with Dorian, it was different. It wasn't just the thrill of the chase anymore. It was something else, something deeper.

He hadn't planned on getting this close. But now, standing in the quiet of the night, the realization that he might actually care about Dorian hit him with a force that left him breathless.

As Rhys walked further into the darkness, lost in thought, a quiet voice drifted toward him from just beyond the trees.

It was Kaelen.

Rhys paused, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Kaelen standing a short distance away, his phone pressed to his ear. He was speaking in a low voice, his words too quiet to make out, but there was something about his posture—something tense, as if he was carrying a weight no one else could see.

For a moment, Rhys considered turning back, leaving Kaelen to his conversation. But something held him in place, a strange curiosity tugging at him, drawing him closer.

Kaelen finished his call, his gaze shifting as he noticed Rhys standing nearby. His expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something guarded, careful.

"Late night walk?" Kaelen asked, slipping his phone into his pocket as he stepped away from the trees.

Rhys shrugged, his hands still tucked in his pockets. "Couldn't sleep. You?"

Kaelen's lips curved into a small, unreadable smile. "Same."

For a long moment, the two stood in silence, the cool night air swirling around them. Rhys' mind was still racing, but now his thoughts had shifted, focusing on the man standing in front of him. There was something about Kaelen—something that didn't sit right with Rhys. He couldn't shake the feeling that Kaelen was hiding something, something important.

"I've been watching you," Rhys said suddenly, his voice low but not accusing. "You're... different."

Kaelen raised an eyebrow, but his expression remained calm. "Different how?"

Rhys narrowed his eyes, searching Kaelen's face for any hint of a reaction. "I don't know. You seem... too invested in this trip. In Dorian."

At the mention of Dorian's name, Kaelen's gaze flickered—just for a moment—but it was enough for Rhys to catch. The slight shift in his expression, the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly, told Rhys that his suspicion wasn't misplaced.

"I'm just doing my job," Kaelen replied smoothly, though there was a weight to his words, something unspoken lingering beneath the surface.

Rhys wasn't satisfied with that answer. There was something more here—something Kaelen wasn't saying. And Rhys wasn't one to back down easily.

"You care about him," Rhys said quietly, his voice soft but certain. "More than just a guide would."

Kaelen's expression didn't change, but there was a pause—a hesitation that spoke volumes. For a moment, Rhys thought he might deny it, might brush it off with the same calm detachment he had shown earlier. But instead, Kaelen gave a quiet sigh, his gaze shifting toward the darkened cabin where Dorian slept.

"I care about a lot of people," Kaelen said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But some... some more than others."

Rhys' heart skipped a beat, his suspicion hardening into something more concrete. Kaelen wasn't saying everything, but there was enough in those words to make Rhys' mind race with possibilities.

Before Rhys could press further, Kaelen turned to him, his gaze sharp but not unfriendly. "Dorian's stronger than he looks," Kaelen said, his voice low. "But strength doesn't mean he's invincible. You should remember that."

Rhys frowned, his thoughts swirling with the weight of Kaelen's words. It wasn't an outright confession, but it was enough to make Rhys pause, enough to make him wonder just how deep Kaelen's connection to Dorian really went.

"What are you saying?" Rhys asked, his voice cautious.

Kaelen gave him a small, almost sad smile. "Just... look out for him. You might be surprised by what you learn."

With that, Kaelen turned, walking back toward the other side of the camp, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the trees. Rhys stood frozen for a moment, his mind buzzing with questions he didn't have answers to.

What had Kaelen meant by that? There was something there—something Rhys couldn't quite grasp, but he was close. And now, more than ever, Rhys was certain that Kaelen knew more about Dorian than he was letting on.

As Rhys turned to head back to the cabin, his mind was filled with a new sense of purpose. He wasn't just playing a game anymore. This was about more than just teasing Dorian—this was about understanding him. About protecting him.

Because whatever Kaelen wasn't saying, one thing was clear: Dorian was at the center of it.

And Rhys wasn't going to let that go.