Lucy

Caelen's eyes are still on a girl seated near the window. Short, slightly messy brown hair with streaks of violet curled softly over her shoulders, and those emerald eyes… focused entirely on her plate. She didn't glance up once. She didn't speak. She didn't even flinch at the newcomers.

Caelen's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than it should've.

He blinked. 

"What?" Emma asked softly, nudging his arm.

"Nothing—just... noticing the decor," he lied, brushing it off.

Rebecca chuckled. "Oh, right! This is Lucy," she said, gesturing to the quiet girl who had already started on her second helping. "She's not the talkative type, but don't take it the wrong way, she's just one of those people who keeps to herself… a thinker? I think?"

Lucy didn't look up. She continued eating, methodical and quiet. There was a certain intensity to her calm that made it hard to read her. Her green eyes remained locked on her plate, and despite her silence, she didn't seem shy—just… uninterested.

"And that's Wayne," she added, nodding toward a lanky guy in a casual hoodie who looked like he spent more time in the gym than studying. He stood up quickly, his gaze instantly locked on Emma.

Wayne smiled, pushing back his chair. "Hey there. Wayne. Welcome."

Emma smiled politely and dipped her head. "Emma. Thank you for having us."

Her soft voice made Wayne straighten just a little more. He stepped closer and took her hand gently, then tilted it like he was about to kiss it.

Caelen's hand made a sharp slicing motion through the air.

Wayne paused mid-bow, caught the signal, and awkwardly retracted. "Right, um—just being polite."

"Polite's good," Caelen said calmly, but his eyes didn't hide the message.

Wayne sat down without another word.

Caelen glanced at Emma again. Her golden-blonde hair shimmered even in this dim space, catching the light like spun thread. That same gentle aura around her—it was no wonder people stared. Even he had to admit, she looked more breathtaking than ever. But he didn't like how other men looked at her. Not at the mall. Not now.

Maybe she needs to see it for herself, he thought. Then she'll understand what I'm trying to protect her from.

He shook the thought off and went to grab the plates Rebecca had set aside. "Here," he said, placing one in front of Emma. "Eat while it's warm."

"Thank you," she replied sweetly, taking a seat beside him.

"So, about the lodging," Caelen asked, "How long have you lived here, Rebecca?"

The older woman's expression softened. "Since my husband passed, a few years ago. He was all about adventure, always picking fights and pushing his limits. That kind of life… doesn't last forever."

Emma's chewing slowed as she listened, her gaze distant.

"He died doing what he loved," Rebecca added. "But my son… he's different. Doesn't have the strength his father had. He's overseas, studying business. Wants to live comfortably, not chase danger."

Emma nodded slightly—almost without realizing it—and Caelen noticed. He tilted his head but chose not to ask.

"That's brave in its own way," Emma said gently.

Rebecca smiled at her, but there was a trace of sadness in it. "He visits sometimes. I miss him, but I'm proud."

She stood, gathering a few empty plates—including Lucy's. The quiet girl stood up without a word and headed for her room, nodding faintly at Emma as she passed.

Caelen quickly cleared his own plate, scraping the last of the food into his mouth. "Emma," he said, wiping his hands, "you should go talk to her."

"Lucy?"

"Yeah. Get to know her a little. You're good at that," he smiled. "I'll clean up."

Emma stood, giving him a small nod. "Alright."

She walked off down the hallway as Caelen leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the table he decided to stand up from the table, collecting his own plate and Wayne's as the guy quietly slipped back to his seat, defeated. Without a word, Caelen made his way toward the small kitchen nook where Rebecca was already rinsing off a few cups.

She looked up, surprised. "Oh, Caelen, you don't have to. You two are guests."

"Guests who haven't exactly earned a meal," he said with a small grin, stacking the plates beside the sink. "Least I can do is help clean up."

Rebecca tried to wave him off. "Nonsense. You already paid for the room—"

"But not dinner," Caelen interrupted gently, rolling up his sleeves. "And besides, I've never liked sitting around while someone else does all the work."

Rebecca paused for a second, eyeing him. Then, with a slow, amused shake of her head, she chuckled and handed him a clean dish towel.

"Alright, alright. I'll accept the help. But I'm not letting you scrub the pans."

"Deal."

The two worked side by side in a quiet rhythm. The kitchen wasn't big—just enough for two people to work elbow to elbow—but it felt calm. Comfortable.

Rebecca washed the dishes with practiced ease, while Caelen dried them one by one and stacked them neatly in the overhead rack.

"So… you said your name's Caelen, right?" she asked casually.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"You don't talk much, but when you do, you seem thoughtful."

"That's one way of putting it," he smirked.

She smiled, rinsing a spoon. "You from around here?"

"No. Further out. This city's just a pitstop, really."

"Pitstop, huh?" she said, handing him a bowl. "You two don't look like the pitstop type. You've got... a history, I can tell."

Caelen paused mid-wipe, then glanced at her with a side-smile. "Let's just say... we're taking a break from that history."

Rebecca didn't press further. Instead, she hummed as she reached for the last pot. "Well, whatever it is, I hope Velden treats you both kindly. People come here to heal, you know."

"Hope so," he said. "She deserves that."

"You both do," she replied without missing a beat.

They finished up the last of the dishes in silence, the only sounds being the soft clink of plates and running water. Caelen handed her the final dry cup and hung the towel neatly on the rack.

"Thanks for letting me help," he said.

"Thanks for offering," Rebecca replied warmly, drying her hands. "Not many your age would."

He gave a small nod, then glanced toward the hallway. "I should go check on Emma."

"Of course," she said, already wiping down the counter. "She's down the hall, last door on the left."

"Got it."

Caelen left the kitchen, the sound of soft music now drifting in from a nearby TV. He walked down the hallway, wiping a faint bit of water off his hands on his pants.

The hallway was quiet, save for the soft hum of electronics drifting from a cracked door. Caelen slowed his steps, nudging it open gently with his foot. Inside, Emma was leaning slightly over Lucy's shoulder, pointing curiously at the mouse in her hand. The screen displayed a wide white line inching across the bottom—clearly loading something.

Caelen smirked, stepping in with a teasing lilt. "Hey, is this where the cool kids hang out, or do I need an invite and a mouse pad to join the party?"

Both girls turned.

Lucy's eyes narrowed in immediate disapproval. Emma, bless her, just blinked in confusion—then smiled, as if laughing along despite not getting the joke.

"Really?" Caelen chuckled at himself, waving a hand. "Forget it. Mind if I come in?"

Lucy barely looked at him. "I don't care. Just keep quiet and don't ask me random questions. I'm tired of that shit." She said it plainly—blunt and with the weight of someone who meant every word—and flicked her eyes to Emma before turning back to the screen.

"That easy? I thought I'd have to win you over or get a shoe thrown at me," he said with mock disappointment, stepping farther into the room.

The place felt... different. Not dark, but dim in a way that felt intentional. Band posters lined the walls, mixed with stylized game art—warriors, swords, strange creatures. It wasn't edgy or messy. It was personal. It had her energy.

"I gave your girlfriend five minutes," Lucy added, eyes on the screen. "She begged for it. You've got one left, and then you're both out."

Caelen opened his mouth to reply, but something caught his eye. A CD case, slightly dusty, sitting beside the monitor. He picked it up, grinning wide. "Wait—I remember this game!"

The cover featured stylized warriors mid-battle pose, each one brimming with exaggerated flair.

"Some rich kid I met years ago let me play this. We only got through half a round before I had to leave for work. I always wondered how it ended."

He turned the case in his hands, like it was some lost relic. Emma leaned in curiously, her interest piqued by his sudden nostalgia.

Without thinking—more instinct than strategy—he whispered the charm. A soft invocation of the same subtle demonic charisma he'd used on Rebecca earlier. Just a gentle push.

Lucy stiffened.

Her fingers hesitated above the keyboard.

Then—almost reluctantly—she glanced over her shoulder. "Fine," she muttered. "One round. And then you're out."

Caelen hid a grin. He knew she was going to deny him. This was a win.

Before sitting, he turned to Emma and, using their shared link, whispered across the bond: 'Emma, give us a minute. I want to try something important—I'll explain later.'

Emma blinked at him, confused at first, then curious as her fingers brushed her temple. The sensation of the link was still new, almost like a soft voice in her bones.

She looked at Caelen's face, saw his calm, maybe a bit serious expression, and nodded. "I'm actually not interested in that stuff, so I'll be going to bed," she said, brushing a bit of her hair aside before heading for the door.

Caelen sat, his pulse quickening as the screen glowed back to life. Lucy shifted the mouse with practiced hands, clicking through settings. She grabbed the CD from him wordlessly and slotted it into the tray.

But as the game loaded again, she paused.

"…What did you do just now?"

Her voice was low. Controlled. But it cut through the air like a wire pulled too tight.

Caelen turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing. "Huh?"

"I said—what the hell did you do?" Lucy's eyes didn't leave him. "I felt it. Magic. Which felt very strange. You better start explaining, or I swear, I'll kill you before the loading bar hits full."

Her eyes—once just tired and uninterested—were glowing now. Green. Not like glass, not like envy. They pulsed. Like a ripple of energy hiding in the iris, waiting to explode.

Caelen sat very still, the monitor bathing his face in pale light.

And in that moment, he realized something.

Lucy wasn't just some quiet, edgy gamer.

She was something else entirely.

If you're enjoying the story so far, don't forget to drop a Power Stone! It helps a lot and tells me you're loving the journey too.

(More chapters coming soon!)