Outskirts of Cael Morhan – at Night
The wind howled lightly, brushing against the worn trees, while flickers from the campfire danced on their tired faces. Dante and Elias sat beside the fire, the shadows stretching behind them like long forgotten memories. Dante's lip was still stitched from the earlier battle, but he wore a half-smile as he looked up at the sky.
Dante:(with a hoarse voice) "We've come so far, huh? Just a while ago we were dodging classes, throwing paper balls at teachers... and now we're dodging monsters, watching friends bleed out, and trying not to get possessed by ancient echoes."
Elias (soft chuckle) "Yeah... it's crazy. But look at you, Dante. You've changed. You fought like hell back there. You were fearless."
Dante: (shrugs) "You taught me how to fight, remember? First rule—'Don't think. Move.' I still hear you yelling that in my head every time I panic."
Elias: (nods at the twin daggers resting beside Dante) "Those blades... they're beautiful. You deserve them."
Dante: (picks one up slowly, admiring its dark, glowing edge)
"They're not just blades. They feel... alive. Like they're stitched to my soul. I can hear them whisper. And I understand it... somehow."
Elias: "Then give them a name. Something that honors them."
Dante: (grins and tilts his head) "You're right... Alright, how about..... 'Slashy'?"
(Suddenly, the daggers release a short pulse of energy. A crackle zaps his fingers. He yelps and nearly drops one.)
Dante: "OW! Okay, okay! They didn't like that."
Elias: (laughing) "Yeah, they're ancient relics, not house pets. Maybe something less... dumb?"
Dante: (thinking for a moment, then closes his eyes as if listening)
"They're whispering again... something deeper, older. Alright. I think I've got it.
(He opens his eyes slowly)
'BLOODTHORN'
(The moment he says the names, the daggers glow faintly, softly humming with approval. The glow spreads into his veins like a pulse.)
Elias: (smiles) "They liked that."
Dante: (nods with a small smirk) "Yeah... I think they did."
The fire's glow warmed their tired faces, but the night felt heavier with everything they had seen. After a few moments of silence, Dante glanced sideways at Elias, his expression softening.
Dante:(gently) "Elias... you good, man? I mean, really. After all that—Threxal, the echo... you passed out like you were dead for a second."
Elias: (looks into the fire, voice low) "I don't know. It's like there's a storm inside. It's quiet now, but I can feel it waiting. The echo... it didn't just merge with me, Dante. It knows me. It tries to pull things out of me I don't want to face."
Dante: (leans forward, elbows on his knees) "Then we'll face it together. You're not alone in this. We've bled together, survived horrors together... I saw what it did to you back there. But I also saw you fight it. You're still you."
Elias: (smiles faintly, voice cracking slightly) "You always know what to say."
Dante: (grins) "Yeah, well... maybe I'm growing up too. Scary thought, right?"
(They both laugh quietly. Elias suddenly reaches over and puts a hand on Dante's shoulder.)
Elias: "I mean it. I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for you. Back at the fight... you moved when all of us froze. You reminded me who I am. Thank you."
Dante: (shakes his head, eyes glassy) "Don't thank me. Just promise you'll be here when I need you too."
(Elias doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he leans in and hugs Dante tightly. Dante freezes for a second, surprised—but then wraps his arms around Elias without hesitation. It's not a warrior's handshake or a formal gesture. It's raw, real—two brothers in arms clinging to something human after the monsters, the death, the darkness.)
Elias: (softly) "Always."
They pull apart, nodding at each other with mutual respect. No more words were needed. The fire burned on, and for the first time in days, the night felt a little less cold.
As Elias and Dante pull back from the hug, the quiet crackling of the fire fills the air. A beat passes—then a playful voice cuts through the stillnss.
Alice: (grinning as she walks up, arms crossed) "Ooooh, would you look at that? A pure, heart-melting moment between two best friends. Should I give you two a minute alone? Maybe write a ballad about it?"
Dante: "Oh gods, Can't we have one dramatic bro moment without getting teased?"
Elias: (laughs softly, clearly more relaxed now)
"You know she's been dying to ruin the mood the moment she saw us."
Alice: (teasing, with a wink)
"Guilty. But really, it was cute. I was starting to think you two were about to kiss or start a poetry circle."
Dante: "Careful, or I'll let the daggers name themselves 'Alice's Wrath' and swing them around dramatically every time you talk."
Alice: (feigning shock) "That actually sounds kind of iconic."
They all share a laugh, the tension melting a bit more. Elias leans back, exhaling slowly as he watches his friends banter.
Elias: "Feels good... this. Us. After everything."
Alice: (smiling genuinely now, sitting beside them)
"We need moments like this. They're what keep us from turning into the monsters we fight."
The three of them sit in the warm silence for a while, the flames casting dancing shadows across their faces. The bond between them—tested by fire, stitched with scars—felt stronger than ever.
Alice: (playfully, but with a touch of concern) "So... how's my stitching job holding up, soldier? Still pretty, or did you manage to ruin it already?"
Dante blinked, caught off guard by how close she was now. He instinctively raised a hand to his lips, gently touching the stitched corner where her work had held his skin together.
Dante: (awkward chuckle) "Still holding. Pretty sure you missed your calling as a healer... or maybe a tailor."
Alice: (grinning) "Or both. I save lives and make them fashionable."
Dante looked at her for a second too long. The firelight danced in her eyes, and suddenly his mouth went dry.
Dante: (quietly) "Thanks... for that. I mean, the stitches. And... you know. Being here."
Alice: (noticing the way his voice softened, her smile falters for just a breath—turning sincere) "Of course. I always will be."
Their eyes locked, just for a second. A second too long. Elias glanced between them with a knowing smirk but said nothing.
Dante quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck and clearing his throat.
Dante: "So... uh, maybe next time go easy with the needle, yeah? Pretty sure you stabbed me on purpose."
Alice: (laughs) "No promises."
The campfire flickered as the woods around them hushed in the night. Elias and Alice sat close to Dante, who was trying his best not to look flustered.
Suddenly, from the darkness behind them—
Logan: (loudly, hands behind his head) "Well, well, well. Look who's having a cozy little bonding moment. Should we leave you three alone or...?"
Vance: (snorts, flopping down on the other side of the fire)
"Please, Logan. If anyone needs a chaperone, it's you and your love affair with your reflection."
Logan: (mock offended) "That was one time—and mirrors are fascinating, thank you."
Faith: (grinning as she settles beside Elias) "Anyway, did we miss the emotional hug or was it a group one? I want in."
Elias rolls his eyes with a smile while Dante groans, burying his face in his hands.
Dante: "I swear you people have no chill."
Alice: (smirking) "They're just jealous they didn't get cool battle scars and magical talking daggers."
Logan: "Oh yeah, about that—Dante, do they actually talk or have you just finally lost it?"
Dante: (grinning) "They talk. And unlike you, they actually say useful things."
Faith:(mock gasp) "Shots fired! Careful, Logan. He might start naming one of them after you ."
Dante: "I was gonna go with something like 'Logan's Ego' and 'Vance's Hair.' But they shocked me last time I joked, so..."
Everyone bursts into laughter, even Elias chuckling deeply as Vance flips his hair dramatically.
Vance: "At least my hair deserves to be immortalized in legend. What do you have, Logan? Eyebrows?"
Logan: "I have charm, sarcasm, and the ability to still look amazing after nearly dying. Triple threat."
Faith: "Don't forget your humility."
Logan: "Exactly. Humble king."
They all laughed again, the sound carrying out into the woods, defying the dark horrors they had faced earlier. In that moment, around the fire, it was just friends—alive, bruised, bonded, and stronger than before.
The campfire had dwindled to a soft glow, casting faint orange hues on the faces of Elias and Dante. The others were already asleep, some curled in cloaks, others using their packs as pillows. Crickets chirped faintly in the distance, and the cold night air pressed gently against their skin.
Elias: (leaning back, eyes on the sky) "So... you like her?"
Dante: (snaps his head to Elias, blinking) "What—who? Shyra? I mean—uh—who are we talking about?" (clearly flustered)
Elias: (with a small, knowing smirk) "Don't pretend with me, Dante. You know exactly who I'm talking about." (he turns his head, raising an eyebrow)
"Alice."
Dante: (sighs, rubbing the back of his neck) "Ahh, you always know. Can't hide anything from you, huh?"
(he lets out a soft chuckle)
"Yeah... I guess I kinda do. I mean, she's smart, funny, totally unpredictable. And she stitched my damn lips shut like it was nothing."
(smiling softly)
"But I don't think she feels that way. She's always laughing with everyone. I'm just... one of the guys to her."
Elias: (turns his eyes back to the fire) "She's a good girl, Dante. A good soul. Yeah, she laughs with everyone, teases us all like it's her job—but today, when you got hurt... when she stitched you up—I saw something in her eyes."
(he pauses)
"I saw fear. Real fear. The kind you don't feel for just anyone."
Dante: (swallows hard, blinking slowly)
"You sure?"
Elias: "I'm not a prophet, Dante. But I know people. And I know you. She might not say it, maybe doesn't even realize it herself... but I think she cares more than she lets on."
There's a pause. Silence. Only the crackling of the fire and the rustling of wind in the trees.
Dante: (softly) "You think someone like her... would like someone like me?"
Elias: (firmly, without hesitation) "I know she could. Because someone like you, Dante... would fight a demon with no magic, just for us. That's rare. And she's smart enough to see that."
Dante looked down at his daggers, glowing faintly at his side. Then he looked at Elias, eyes sincere.
Dante: "Thanks, man. Really."
Elias: (nods, faint smile) "You ever break her heart though—I will kill you."
Dante: (grins) "Noted."
Dante: (nudging Elias with his elbow, smirking)
"Well, what about you, huh?"
(Elias looks confused)
"Don't act innocent. Everyone can see how you suddenly forget how to speak when Faith's around. And it's the same with her—she lights up every time you walk in like you're the sunrise or something."
Elias: (rolls his eyes, but there's a faint blush on his face) "Oh, please."
Dante: (grinning) "I'm serious, man. You two... you get each other. It's like she calms you down, and you ground her. Why haven't you made a move yet?"
Elias: (quietly, eyes on the fire) "Because I'm still figuring myself out, Dante. This... Forsaken thing, the echo, the powers—sometimes I'm scared of what I might become. And the last thing I'd want is to bring someone I care about into that kind of uncertainty."
There's a pause, Elias picks up a small twig and tosses it into the fire.
Elias: (softly) "But when she looks at me... it's like—for a moment—I forget I'm anything other than just me. No shadows. No weight. Just... Elias. And that's the most dangerous kind of comfort, you know? Because I never want to lose it."
Dante: (smiling, sincere) "You won't. Not with her. Not with us. You're not alone, Elias. You never were."
Elias looks at him, the fire reflecting in his eyes, and he nods—grateful.
Elias: "I'll tell her. When the time's right. When I'm ready to not be afraid of what comes after."
Dante: (grinning) "Just don't wait until I've got three kids and a limp."
Elias:(chuckling)
"Deal."
They share a look—equal parts laughter and unspoken understanding.
after some time they went to sleep too.
The night is still. Everyone sleeps peacefully . Crickets chirp faintly in the distance. But inside Elias' mind... darkness stirs.
The world around him fades, and he finds himself standing in an endless void of shifting shadows. Cold mist coils around his feet, and the sky above is an oppressive swirl of black and red. Then—he hears it. A voice—deep, inhuman, ancient.
Nyxoth (echoing, distorted): "You feel it now, don't you? The weight... the surge... the power."
Elias turns, eyes wide, trying to locate the voice—but the shadows stretch endlessly.
Nyxoth: "The second Echo... mine. It pulses within you. It feeds on your defiance. You carry it well, Elias... and you will carry more. You will unshackle me."
Elias (strained, angry): "No. I won't be your vessel."
Nyxoth (laughing faintly, almost a whisper): "You already are. Piece by piece, echo by echo. Your will wavers... your fear grows. You will fall into me. You will free me. Not by chains... but by choice."
Suddenly, shadows stretch from the void and wrap around Elias' arms, slithering up his neck, trying to suffocate him, to drag him deeper.
Nyxoth (in a thunderous voice): "YOU ARE THE DOOR, ELIAS. AND THE DOOR WILL OPEN."
Elias jolts awake, his body drenched in sweat, heart pounding like war drums. His breathing is sharp and heavy, his eyes wide with panic.
The fire is gone. Morning sunlight bleeds through the trees. Birds chirp softly. Everything feels too quiet... too peaceful after what he just saw.
He looks around—everyone still asleep or just stirring. The sky is pale gold.
He places a trembling hand to his chest, still feeling the dark presence lingering.
Elias (whispering to himself): "I won't be the door... I won't..."
He exhales slowly, trying to steady himself.
END OF CHAPTER 13