Memory. Part: 5

The castle walls stood silent as the weight of the mission settled over them. After the briefing, Kael, Seraphina, and Zirath made their way back through the dimly lit corridors. The echo of their footsteps against the stone floors filled the vast halls, but none of them spoke at first.

The air between them was thick—not just with tension, but with something else. Something heavier.

Zirath finally exhaled and placed his hands on his hips, his lips twisting into a crooked smirk.

"Well," he muttered, his voice laced with something close to disbelief. "That's one hell of a task."

Seraphina turned to him, her sharp amber eyes flashing in the dim light. "You think this is funny?"

He raised a brow at her. "If I don't laugh, I might scream."

Kael barely registered their exchange. His gaze remained fixed on the smooth, worn stones beneath his feet, thoughts swirling like a storm inside his mind.

Seraphina sighed, brushing a loose strand of crimson hair from her face. "We should get some rest. We leave at dawn, remember?" she said, her voice steady, yet carrying an underlying concern.

Zirath scoffed, stretching his arms behind his head. "Rest? We just got told we're walking straight into Mergalon at sunrise, and you think we're just going to close our eyes and drift off like babies?"

Seraphina gave him a sharp glance. "You'd be surprised. You seem reckless enough to manage it."

A grin tugged at the corner of Zirath's lips. "You flatter me."

Kael remained quiet, his gaze focused ahead, yet not truly seeing anything. The mission replayed over and over in his mind. The pendant. The relics. The Embervein Shard.

And the words of the Commander:

"This mission is the highest priority. If this relic falls into enemy hands, it could be the end of everything."

The end of everything.

He exhaled, trying to shake off the unease that curled around his chest like a tightening chain. But Seraphina caught it. She had always been able to see through him—through the cracks, through the barriers, through the pieces of him he never wanted anyone else to notice

"You're thinking too much again," she murmured, studying him with those sharp amber eyes that always saw through the inside of his heart.

Kael sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Thinking keeps us alive."

"Overthinking gets us killed."

Zirath let out a dramatic groan. "And here we go again—Seraphina, the all-knowing wise one, delivering her lessons of life. Meanwhile, Kael is out here trying to look brooding and mysterious. It's like watching an old couple argue."

Seraphina shot him a glare. "You're impossible."

Zirath smirked. "And yet, you both love me for it."

Kael finally exhaled a small chuckle. "Debatable."

Zirath placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. "You wound me, Kael."

Seraphina sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "We have a mission tomorrow. At least pretend to be serious for once."

"I am serious," Zirath said, though there was still a playful glint in his eyes. "We've been through hell together, and we're still standing. We'll get through this too."

Seraphina studied him for a moment before her expression softened slightly. "…I hope you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Zirath said, throwing an arm around both of their shoulders. "We're unstoppable, remember?"

Kael shook his head, brushing his hand off. "Get some sleep, Zirath."

Zirath sighed dramatically but relented, turning toward the staircase leading to their chambers. "Fine. But if you two end up talking all night and making me look like the only responsible one, I swear—"

Seraphina shoved him toward the stairs. "Go."

With a chuckle, Zirath finally disappeared into the upper halls.

Seraphina turned back to Kael, her gaze lingering on him.

Kael could feel her searching for something—some sign that he wasn't drowning in thoughts.

He forced a small smirk. "Worried about me?"

"Always," she said simply, before giving him a small nod and walking toward her own room.

Kael stood there for a moment longer, watching her retreating before finally stepping into his own chamber.

But he already knew—sleep would not come tonight.

The night had a certain stillness, a hush that settled over the castle walls like a lingering whisper. A crisp breeze carried the scent of damp stone and distant pine, weaving through the empty corridors before spilling into the open courtyard. Above, the stars gleamed in cold brilliance, distant and untouchable.

Kael stood at the edge of the outer wall, his hands braced against the worn stone, his gaze lost in the endless stretch of darkened hills beyond the castle. The moon was high, casting silver light across the land, painting shadows long and deep.

His mind, however, refused to be as serene as the world before him.

He felt it—the weight of the mission, pressing down on him like an unseen hand at his throat. The mission loomed in the distance, and no matter how many times he turned the details over in his head, he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling in his chest.

He had faced war before. Had seen battle. Had lost too much.

But this time...

"What if something goes wrong?"

"What if this is the moment everything slips away?"

His jaw clenched. He hated this feeling—this doubt creeping in, sinking into his bones.

Then, suddenly—

A soft hand touched his shoulder.

Kael flinched, his instincts sharpened from years of battle, but the moment his skin registered the warmth, he knew.

Seraphina.

He didn't turn, not yet. He didn't need to.

She stood beside him, her crimson hair catching the moonlight, loose strands dancing in the night breeze. Her cloak was wrapped snugly around her slender frame, the fur-lined edges shifting slightly with the wind.

For a moment, she didn't speak.

She simply stood there—close enough that he could feel her presence, steady and unwavering, like the quiet hum of a flame in the darkness.

When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, but there was something in it—something firm, something knowing.

"You always do this," she murmured.

Kael exhaled slowly. "Do what?"

"Hold everything in."

A faint chuckle escaped him, but it lacked real humor. "And you always try to fix me."

Seraphina tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes reflecting the moon's glow. A small, knowing smirk played on her lips.

"Maybe I just like a challenge."

Kael let out a breath—not quite a laugh, but not quite a sigh.

For all her sharp words, for all the strength she carried, there was always this about her—this way she had of grounding him without force.

She watched him for a moment longer before stepping forward.

Then—without hesitation, without a single word of explanation—she sat down on the stone ledge and leaned against his back.

Kael stiffened slightly at the contact.

Her warmth seeped through the fabric of his cloak, a stark contrast to the biting cold of the night air. Her presence was solid, real, grounding.

He blinked, looking over his shoulder. "…What are you doing?"

"Keeping you from falling into your own head."

There was no teasing in her voice, no playful lilt. Just a quiet certainty.

Kael hesitated—but only for a moment. Then, with a soft exhale, he sat down as well.

Their backs pressed together, neither facing the other, both gazing out into the vast expanse of the world beyond the castle walls.

And for the first time that night, Kael felt his mind slow.

The silence that followed wasn't heavy or suffocating.

It was peaceful.

The wind whispered across the stone, carrying distant sounds of the forest below—rustling leaves, the soft call of an owl in the night.

Seraphina had always been like this. A force of calm in the storm. A pillar for both him and Zirath. She held them up in ways they never quite acknowledged, always steady, always strong.

And yet—

Kael had always known, in the quiet moments like this, that she carried her own burdens too.

"…You're thinking too much again," she murmured.

Kael exhaled. "And you always say that."

"Because it's always true."

A small smirk tugged at his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. The weight of the mission, the uncertainty, still clung to him like a shadow.

Then, quieter this time—almost hesitant—he spoke.

"…What if something happens?"

Seraphina didn't answer right away.

She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth where their backs met, the steady rise and fall of his breath, the quiet weight of his unspoken fears.

She had known Kael for years. Knew how he carried everything alone. Knew how the weight of the world settled on his shoulders, how he never let anyone see the cracks.

But she saw them.

She always did.

"If something happens," she whispered finally, her voice steady, unwavering, "we'll face it together."

Kael didn't respond.

But somehow, that was enough for him.

The tension in his shoulders loosened ever so slightly, and for a moment—for just a moment—he let himself lean into the warm comfort of her presence.

No confessions. No grand declarations.

Just some quiet, unspoken words between them.