After hearing Zeritheus's plan, Xhaelyn's eye twitched—once, twice, then thrice. Without a word, she instinctively distanced herself from him, casting him a disdainful glance.
Zeritheus blinked, taken aback. "What's wrong? Isn't my plan great?"
Xhaelyn didn't respond. Instead, she lay back on the bed and closed her eyes.
Baffled, Zeritheus moved closer, peering down at her.
Zeritheus furrowed his brows. "Oi, don't ignore me."
Xhaelyn didn't stir.
He crouched beside the bed, resting his chin on his palm. "Seriously, what's the problem? Got a better idea?"
Silence.
Zeritheus clicked his tongue. "Tch. You're looking down on me, aren't you?"
Xhaelyn finally exhaled, cracking one eye open. "Looking down?" She scoffed. "No. I'm just wondering if you actually think before you speak."
Zeritheus gaped at her. "Excuse me?"
She sat up, giving him a flat stare. "Your plan is childish. I shouldn't have expected much from a child boy. Tsk, tsk."
Zeritheus' eye twitched. "Child boy? What kind of insult is that?"
Xhaelyn waved a lazy hand. "The kind that fits."
He scowled. "Hey, I put effort into that plan!"
"And that's the concerning part," she muttered.
Zeritheus crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. "You're talking like you're older than me. I'm nine, and obviously much older than you."
Xhaelyn gave him a deadpan stare. "Older, but still bickering with a seven-year-old? Pathetic."
Zeritheus opened his mouth, then closed it, glaring. "You—! That's—! Ugh." He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "You're really annoying, you know that?"
Xhaelyn yawned. "And you're really noisy. What's your point?"
His eye twitched again. "I should just leave you here."
"Then do it." She shut her eyes again, clearly unbothered.
Zeritheus clicked his tongue, but instead of storming off, he sat down beside the bed, muttering under his breath.
A moment of silence passed.
Zeritheus secretly glanced at Xhaelyn, expecting her to be asleep. Instead, she was on the floor, steadily doing push-ups.
His brow twitched. "You were just lying down a second ago."
Xhaelyn ignored him, her movements fluid and controlled. She barely made a sound as she lowered herself and pushed back up, her breathing even.
Zeritheus leaned forward, watching with mild curiosity. "You're seriously working out right now?"
Xhaelyn shifted seamlessly into a plank, holding herself steady. "You talk too much."
"I'm just saying, shouldn't you be saving your energy?"
Without a word, she flipped onto her back and started doing sit-ups. Zeritheus raised an eyebrow.
"Do you always do this?"
Xhaelyn didn't answer immediately, only counting under her breath. After her fifteenth sit-up, she finally spoke. "Old habits."
Zeritheus studied her, noticing how natural the movements were—practiced, disciplined. Not the kind of routine a normal seven-year-old would have.
His lips curled into a smirk. "You're weird."
Xhaelyn switched to squats. "And you're still talking."
Zeritheus huffed. "Alright, fine. Keep being mysterious." He stretched his arms behind his head, leaning against the bed frame. "Not like we're going anywhere anytime soon."
Xhaelyn kept training, her focus unwavering. To her, this was routine. A way to regain control over her body, to stay sharp, to prepare.
Zeritheus watched in silence, then shook his head with a chuckle. "Well, at least you're not completely useless."
Xhaelyn didn't react, but Zeritheus could've sworn he saw the slightest twitch of amusement in her expression.
When the human traffickers had brought the unconscious Xhaelyn here, Zeritheus noticed her injuries—bruises trailing along her arms, a faint cut on her cheek, and a stiffness in her movements that suggested deeper wounds.
Back then, he hadn't thought much of it. But now, watching her push through her training as if pain didn't exist, a strange thought crossed his mind.
How many times has she done this before?
He rested his chin on his palm again, observing. "You know, normal kids cry when they get hurt."
Xhaelyn didn't break rhythm. "And normal kids don't get kidnapped."
Zeritheus let out a low whistle. "Fair point."
A few more moments passed, the only sounds being Xhaelyn's steady breaths and the occasional creak of the wooden floor beneath her movements.
Then, Zeritheus tilted his head. "Hey."
Xhaelyn paused mid-squat, eyeing him.
"You're not... normal, are you?" he asked, his tone oddly serious.
Xhaelyn held his gaze for a second before resuming her workout. "And you're only realizing that now?"
Zeritheus chuckled, shaking his head. "Guess I should've known from the start."
He leaned back, watching her with growing intrigue.
For the first time since this whole mess started, he found himself genuinely curious about the girl beside him. Despite being two years younger, she was more mature than him—her mind not childlike at all. Zeritheus's situation was normal, shaped by hardship.
But Xhaelyn was different. There was something in the way she carried herself—an ease in chaos, a calm in the face of pain—that seemed out of place for someone so young. He couldn't figure it out. How was she so composed?
Zeritheus ran a hand through his messy hair again, still watching her. His smirk faded, replaced by something closer to curiosity.
"How long have you been like this?" he asked quietly.
Xhaelyn paused mid-squat but didn't turn to him. "Like what?"
Zeritheus hesitated, then gestured vaguely toward her training. "Like... this. How long have you been pushing yourself like this?"
Xhaelyn's expression remained unchanged. "A long time."
Her tone wasn't bitter—just matter-of-fact, as though it was something normal, something she had always done.
Zeritheus leaned forward, his elbows on his knees now. "You really are something else, huh?"
Xhaelyn didn't respond immediately, but her movements slowed slightly, as though she was contemplating his words. Finally, she straightened from her last squat, wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, and glanced at him with a faint, unreadable expression.
"I'm just trying to survive," she said softly, as though the answer should've been obvious.
For a brief moment, Zeritheus said nothing. He just watched her, sensing that she wasn't just talking about physical survival.
After a beat, he let out a sigh, slouching back against the bed. "I get it. We're stuck in the same mess."
Xhaelyn didn't respond. She stood and tidied her clothes. As she did, her hair that had been tied in a bun fell loose. The hood of her garments—worn during the siege—had long been removed, leaving only the bun in her hair.
Zeritheus, watching her, saw her hair cascade down, revealing the violet and silver-white ends that caught the dim light. The mix of colors seemed almost unnatural for someone so young—her hair was striking, and her movements so deliberate, it almost looked like she didn't belong here.
Previously, when her hair was kept in a bun, he hadn't even noticed the color. Now, seeing it fully, he couldn't help but stare. The contrast between the black base and the silver-white tips made her look almost ethereal, as though she didn't belong to this world. It was a strange, striking sight—her hair like something out of a dream, and the fierce, focused determination in her eyes that didn't match her apparent age.
She caught him staring and raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Zeritheus quickly snapped out of his trance, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Nothing. It's just... your hair."
"My hair?" She tilted her head, an amused glint in her eye. "What about it?"
"It's... different," he muttered, still feeling awkward.
Xhaelyn smirked slightly. "Different in what way?"
Zeritheus, still not fully understanding why it had caught his attention, shrugged. "I don't know. It just doesn't look like it belongs here. It's... too striking. And your eyes, too." He felt that his words sounds negative so he added, "Well, your hair is unique and beautiful," Zeritheus said, his tone softening as he looked at her. "I've never seen anything quite like it. Also your eyes is something can't be easily forgotten."
Xhaelyn gave him a puzzled look, her expression unreadable. She didn't respond immediately, but there was a slight softening in her gaze.
"You really think so?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Zeritheus nodded, his usual confidence tempered with sincerity. "Yeah, I do. It's... unusual. But in a good way."
Xhaelyn let out a breath, almost as if she were considering something. Then, with a small smile, she turned away, tying her hair back into a bun once more.
"Well, you've got a good eye for details," she said lightly, though her tone remained guarded.
Zeritheus watched her, still a little caught off guard by the compliment he had given. He wasn't used to being this genuine with people, especially not a girl two years younger than him, but something about her made it hard to be dismissive.
She had a presence about her—one that was both unsettling and intriguing.
"Well, you can keep it down if it bothers you," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "I just—well, I couldn't help but notice."
Xhaelyn didn't say anything in reply, but the faintest hint of a smile lingered on her lips as she finished adjusting her clothes. Her back facing Zeritheus.
For a moment, there was an unusual calm between them, the tension that had built up earlier slowly dissipating. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be such a terrible partnership after all.
It is the first time I received a compliment about my looks. I don't know but it feels good. She thought.