The Weight in me.

**Eloise**

His words linger in the air, the weight of them pressing against my chest, but as much as I want to fight it, deep down, I know he's right.

Caius, ever the protector, sees things I've only just begun to understand. I've been so caught up in this world I've built—so consumed by the allure of creation—that I failed to see the dangers lurking in its shadows. The greed. The power-hungry souls who would see me as nothing more than a tool to wield for their own gain.

But Caius sees that. He knows the truth behind the beauty of this world. He understands the price I've paid for creating it.

"I agree," I say softly, my voice steady despite the turmoil in my heart. "You're right. There are people who would use me, who would take advantage of my power without a second thought."

I glance up at him, meeting his gaze with newfound clarity. For the first time since I arrived here, I realize how much he's been through. His pain, his struggle—it's all been part of my creation. I've put him through a life of torment, a life without hope, without purpose, and for what?

To give him the chance at something more?

To make him the hero I imagined he could be, only to leave him to fend for himself in a world filled with enemies?

I can't help but feel the weight of my choices.

I created him. I gave him life, and yet I didn't give him the tools he needed to survive. I left him in a world full of betrayal and heartbreak, expecting him to find his own path to redemption. But he's not just a character in a story. He's real. He has real feelings. Real struggles.

And I—i—put him through all of it.

My chest tightens as a wave of guilt washes over me.

"I'm sorry, Caius," I whisper, barely able to meet his eyes. "I never meant for you to suffer like this. I didn't realize... I didn't see how it would feel."

Caius's expression softens slightly, but there's still a guardedness in his gaze. "You didn't know," he says, his tone low and steady. "I understand that now. I can feel it."

He's not angry, not in the way I expected him to be. Instead, there's a quiet understanding between us, a shared sense of knowing that neither of us truly asked for the roles we've been given in this world.

I reach out, my hand trembling as I place it on his arm. He doesn't pull away, allowing me this small touch.

"I didn't want to create a hero. Not a perfect one, at least," I admit, my voice trembling as I finally speak the truth I've kept hidden for so long. "But I wanted to give you something more than the pain you were given in your story. I wanted you to have a chance at happiness."

Caius's eyes flicker with something—perhaps recognition. But there's no anger there, only something softer, something... understanding.

"But it wasn't just about me, was it?" he asks, his voice quiet, probing. "You put pieces of yourself into me. You wanted me to be more than just a character. You wanted me to live the life you never had."

I blink, my throat tightening as his words cut through the silence. It's true. I've woven bits of myself into him, unknowingly or not. In some twisted way, he's become the person I always wished I could be—the person I needed to be to escape my past.

But he's also a reflection of all the things I can't change, of all the mistakes I've made.

I nod slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I never got to live the life I wanted. I... I lost too much. And so, I gave you that chance instead. I gave you my heart, my hopes, my dreams. But I didn't think about how it would affect you—how it would hurt you, or how much you would have to suffer in order to find redemption."

For a moment, Caius is silent, as if mulling over my words. I can feel his eyes on me, but I can't bring myself to look back at him.

He takes a step closer, his voice steady when he speaks again. "You didn't have the luxury of knowing what this world would do to us. What it would do to *you*. And you didn't have the luxury of knowing that by creating me, you'd be creating a bond stronger than you imagined."

The weight of his words settles into my chest, heavier than before. He's right. I never had the luxury of foresight. I didn't realize that my creation would come with consequences that were far more than just a story. That by weaving a narrative, I had tied myself to it in ways I couldn't predict.

I thought I could control it, shape it, bend it to my will. But what I created—what I *became* in the process—was a fragile thing. A life that wasn't mine to command.

"I don't know what I expected, Caius," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to leave you with nothing."

"I know," he says, his voice soft but unwavering. "I never blamed you for what I became. But now... now we're both part of this world, and we have to face it together. For better or worse, I'm yours—and you are mine."

The weight of his words hits me harder than I expected. There's no anger, no resentment in his voice—only an acceptance I never thought possible. For all the pain, the struggles, the betrayals he's endured, he's still here, still standing by me.

I don't know what I did to deserve that kind of loyalty, but in this moment, I realize just how much I need him—how much he's come to mean to me.

I wipe away a stray tear that I hadn't realized had fallen.

"I'll protect you," he continues, his voice low but firm. "And I'll help you fight whatever comes next. You don't have to do this alone."

And in that moment, I realize something I hadn't fully understood until now: I've never been alone in this world. Not really.

Because Caius is here. And together, we'll face whatever comes.