Kaelen's expression softened, and he shook his head. Gently, he reached out, brushing a tear from Aelor's cheek with his uninjured hand. His touch was warm, tender, and it made Aelor's chest ache with emotions he couldn't quite name.
"Aelor," Kaelen murmured, his voice low and steady. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
Aelor closed his eyes, his tears falling more freely now. He hesitated before speaking, his voice quiet and raw. "Sometimes, I feel like giving up," he admitted. "Like no matter what I do, it's never enough. I try, Kaelen, I try so hard, but it feels like... no one sees it. Or if they do, they don't care." He opened his eyes, meeting Kaelen's steady gaze. "Sometimes, I think—maybe it'd be easier to stop trying. To just let everything fall apart."
Kaelen frowned, his thumb brushing another tear away. He let Aelor's words settle between them for a moment before he spoke, his tone gentle but firm. "I can't pretend to know what that feels like, Aelor. But what I do know is that giving up? Letting everything die? That's not you."
Aelor looked away, his expression pained, but Kaelen cupped his face, guiding him back to meet his gaze. His red eyes burned with an intensity that sent a shiver through Aelor, not of fear, but of something far deeper.
"You have something incredible inside you," Kaelen continued. "That drive to help others, to try even when no one sees it or thanks you for it. It's a gift. Not everyone has it, and even fewer are strong enough to keep going the way you do." His hand dropped to Aelor's shoulder, a comforting weight. "It's not about whether people respect you or understand you. It's about the fact that you didn't give up. That's what matters."
Aelor's lip trembled, and he shook his head slightly. "It doesn't feel like enough," he whispered.
Kaelen's grip on his shoulder tightened, just enough to ground him. "It is enough," he said firmly. "Because you're still here. You're still trying. And as long as you're here, Aelor, you're making a difference—even if you can't see it yet."
Aelor let out a shaky breath, his tears slowing as Kaelen's words sank in. For the first time in what felt like forever, the crushing weight on his chest began to lift, just a little.
Kaelen offered a faint smile, his hand lingering on Aelor's shoulder. "You've made a difference for me," he said softly. "And I'll be damned if I let you give up now."
Aelor's breath hitched, and he managed a weak smile through the lingering sadness. "Thank you," he murmured.
Kaelen inclined his head, his voice lightening as he added, "Besides, if you gave up, who would keep me in line?"
That earned a quiet laugh from Aelor, and though his tears hadn't entirely stopped, the warmth in Kaelen's gaze made him feel, for the first time in a long while, that he wasn't alone.
Aelor's tears gradually slowed, the warmth of Kaelen's touch and his steady voice grounding him. His breathing evened out as he blinked away the last remnants of his sadness, focusing on Kaelen's reassuring presence. Slowly, he placed his hands gently on Kaelen's arms, steadying himself as if drawing strength from him. Then, he exhaled a deep, shuddering breath, releasing the tension that had weighed so heavily on him.
A faint smile tugged at Aelor's lips as he looked up at Kaelen, his voice soft but steady. "You weren't even supposed to touch me," he murmured, his head tilting slightly with curiosity. "So why did you just now?"
Kaelen blinked, startled by the question. He glanced at his hands, still resting lightly on Aelor's shoulders, as if noticing them for the first time. His mouth opened slightly, then closed, a flicker of something unguarded crossing his face before his usual composed demeanor returned.
"I didn't mean to," Kaelen admitted, though his tone held a teasing edge. His crimson eyes glinted with a rare, mischievous warmth. "But you looked… adorable when you cried. I suppose I couldn't help myself."
Aelor flushed, his cheeks tinting a soft pink as he stared at Kaelen in disbelief. "Adorable?" he repeated, his tone caught somewhere between incredulity and embarrassment.
Kaelen's lips curved into a smirk, his usual sharp confidence slipping back into place. "Yes, adorable," he said, leaning slightly closer, as if to emphasize his point. "I've never seen anyone cry so gracefully. Most people look like a mess. But you—" He paused, his voice dropping into a softer, more genuine tone. "You even managed to make tears look beautiful."
Aelor's flush deepened, and he glanced away, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and something far warmer spreading through his chest. "You're impossible," he muttered, though there was no real bite in his words.
Kaelen chuckled softly, the sound low and almost fond. "Perhaps," he admitted. "But I meant what I said. And I wouldn't take it back."
For a moment, the tension between them eased, replaced by a quiet comfort. Aelor still felt the faint weight of his earlier emotions, but Kaelen's presence made it bearable—almost as though he could share the burden without saying a word.
With a small, tentative smile, Aelor met Kaelen's gaze again. "Thank you," he said quietly, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the stillness like a soft melody.
Kaelen didn't reply immediately, but the faint curve of his lips and the warmth in his red eyes spoke volumes. "Always," he said at last, his tone low and unwavering.
Aelor wiped his face, letting the last of his tears fade, and straightened his posture. Summoning a spell, he whispered a soft incantation, and a blue flame flickered to life in his palm, casting a cool, steady glow over the dark passage ahead. Its light reflected in Kaelen's red eyes, illuminating the faint smirk still lingering on his lips.
"Ready?" Aelor asked, his voice steady now.
Kaelen nodded, his hand instinctively resting near his weapon. "Let's see what's waiting for us down there."
They began their descent, the spiral staircase narrow and carved from smooth, ancient stone. Aelor's blue flame flickered against the walls, its glow revealing faint carvings of runes and faded murals, their meanings long forgotten. Each step echoed faintly, the air growing colder and heavier with every turn.
Finally, the staircase opened into a vast, abandoned library. The sight took both of them by surprise.
Rows of towering shelves stretched into the shadows, crammed with books and scrolls now heavy with layers of dust and cobwebs. Chests were scattered across the room, some still sealed, others broken open and long forgotten. A faint, eerie silence filled the space, interrupted only by the sound of their footsteps.
Aelor stepped forward, his flame hovering higher in his palm. He looked back at Kaelen. "Let's see how much light we can get in here."
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the flame upward. It split into smaller fragments, each one streaking toward a sconce or torch bracket mounted along the walls. One by one, the flames ignited, spreading their ethereal blue light throughout the library.
As the room brightened, the atmosphere turned unsettling. Lining the walls between the shelves and sconces were the remnants of vampires—skulls and bones mounted as macabre trophies. Their fangs were still sharp and intact, and each skull was arranged as if to face inward, watching over the library with hollow, accusing eyes.
Aelor froze, his breath catching in his throat. "What…?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Kaelen's gaze hardened, his sharp eyes scanning the room. "Skeletons," he muttered. "And not just any skeletons. These were vampires." His voice lowered further, the weight of realization dawning. "This place… it wasn't just a library. It was a study hall—a place to learn how to kill my kind."
Aelor took a cautious step closer to one of the walls, peering up at the mounted remains. The skulls were old, the bones brittle and yellowed, but there was no mistaking their purpose. Each skull had been carefully preserved, displayed like a grim warning. Beneath them, faint inscriptions were carved into the stone, written in an ancient elven dialect.
"This must have been an old elven community," Aelor said, piecing it together. "They kept all of this down here. Knowledge, weapons, tactics—everything they needed to fight vampires."
Kaelen's expression darkened as he moved beside Aelor, his gaze lingering on the inscriptions. "And they didn't just study. They hunted. They brought their kills back here." His voice was low, almost bitter. "A warning to others, maybe. Or a trophy room."
Aelor's eyes flicked toward Kaelen, his stomach twisting at the tension in the vampire's jaw. "Do you think this place is still active?" he asked softly.
Kaelen shook his head, though his hand didn't move from his weapon. "No. If it were, the wards here would have been triggered long before we made it down the stairs. Whoever built this place… they're long gone." He glanced at the walls again. "But they left plenty of reminders behind."
The blue light flickered across the room, casting eerie shadows over the shelves and the skeletal remains. Aelor stepped toward one of the chests, the ancient wood creaking as he knelt beside it. "If they were studying how to kill vampires," he mused, "there might still be records. Books. Something useful."
Kaelen stayed close, his gaze flicking between Aelor and the shadows around them. "Be careful," he warned. "If they left traps or wards, we'll find them the hard way."
Aelor nodded, brushing off the dust and reaching for the chest's lid. "Let's see what secrets they left behind."