Morning came--
Or at least what Cael had assumed was morning.
The clouds above him were still so dark, covering most of the light. It was hard to tell the difference between night and day here in this hell called Marrowvale. Time felt like...
Well not that it mattered.
There were other things on his mind.
Just as he let out a heavy breath, footsteps could be heard approaching behind him-- Confident, but at the same time something else. Hesitation. Weariness.
Jarrik
He still carried that usual swagger in his walk, but it was dimmed now, like someone had knocked the shine off him and left the cracks showing. After everything that happened yesterday, Cael couldn't blame him.
The others followed soon after, gathering near the fire one of them had just managed to light. The flames offered little warmth, but in the cold bite of morning air, even that small flicker helped.
The squad didn't say much. Just sat there, close but not connected. Like stones scattered by a wave.
In the corner of his eye, Cael saw Sela standing—arms crossed, silent—watching him. Waiting.
"Cou—cough, that Wretched looked like m…"Jarrik's voice cracked. He tried to joke, but the words fell apart halfway through.
Myka, voice small and trembling, said, "That was scary, wasn't it?I'm so scared... I wanna go home."
The fire crackled, just as Cael was about to open his mouth to say something he stopped.
He noticed how Myka glanced at his coats pocket, it was subtle, but not missed.
No. She didn't know. She couldn't.The only ones who knew were me and Sela. And Sela wouldn't tell her.But… why did it feel like she knew everything?Could she have…? No—
Cael wanted to believe in Sela. He did.But the doubt clung to him like cold ash.
Jarrik was tending to a wound Elise had gotten, Cael hadnt noticed it before maybe it was the stress.
Maybe it was that he could barely take care of himself, let alone anyone else.
Cael slitghly turned from the group, gripping his ribbon. It made him feel calmer like his sister always had done.
After that he didn't speak not to anyone.
Not to Jarrik, not to Myka, Not even Sela.
He stood up slowly, brushing the ash and dirt from his coat. The shard in his pocket pulsed once—like a breath, or a heartbeat that didn't belong to him.
He didn't flinch, but it was getting harder to pretend it wasn't there.
The others were starting to rise now, gathering their things. The fire had burned down to little more than smoldering embers. No one said it, but they all knew—they couldn't stay in Marrowvale much longer. This place fed on stillness.
"We keep west," Jarrik finally said, voice scratchy. "The map showed ruins near the cliff pass. Might be shelter there."
No one argued. No one agreed. They just started walking.
Cael fell behind the others slightly, his boots crunching against dead leaves and twisted gravel. He could feel Sela beside him, not close, but not far either.
She hadn't looked at him since the fire.
He didn't know what he wanted more—a word, or silence.
After some time, when the others were just out of earshot, she finally spoke.
"You didn't sleep."
Cael glanced sideways. "Neither did you."
"No," she said quietly. "I kept watch. On you."
That froze him for a breath.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because you kept twitching like something was crawling inside you." Her voice wasn't cruel, but it wasn't soft either.
He looked away. "I'm fine."
"You're not," she said. "But you will be."
They walked a while longer in quiet. The mist ahead was starting to lift, revealing the faint outline of crumbled ruins clinging to the cliffs like broken teeth.
Then she added, almost too softly:
"Just don't lie to me. I can handle the truth. I just can't handle losing another one."