Xhaelyn processed his words carefully. Two abilities. His unique energy was divided, one part dedicated to defense and the other to offense. She wasn't sure how rare dual abilities were, but from what she had gathered so far, it wasn't something common.
"How do you manage them?" she asked, her curiosity peeking despite herself. "Does one drain you faster than the other?"
Zeritheus shrugged casually, as if it were no big deal. "The defensive one doesn't take much out of me, but the offensive one... well, it can be draining if I use it too much."
Xhaelyn nodded, absorbing this new information. His unique energy was being split between two abilities, which explained the distinct signature she'd sensed earlier. His energy was layered, like two separate forces in a single vessel.
Her gaze sharpened as she glanced at him once more. "So, you're not just some average kid."
Zeritheus chuckled, but there was something else beneath the humor—something guarded. "And you, Xhaelyn? What makes you different from the rest?"
Xhaelyn tilted her head slightly, studying him. "That's for me to know," she replied coolly, her tone just as sharp. "But don't forget—you're not the only one with hidden cards."
Zeritheus' grin widened, but it was mixed with a trace of wariness now. "Alright, I get it. But don't go thinking you're the only one with secrets."
Xhaelyn didn't answer right away. The silence stretched between them, but there was a new tension—an unspoken understanding that neither of them was entirely what they seemed.
She felt her unique energy fully replenished now, and with it, a deeper sense of clarity. She had learned more about Zeritheus than she had intended, and the game had only just begun.
A question lingered in her mind, something that gnawed at her, prompting her to speak up. "Zerith... the fact that you're a dual-ability user—this is something you can't just casually tell someone you've just met, like me. So, why did you?"
Zeritheus met her gaze without hesitation, his smirk fading slightly, replaced by something far more guarded. His casual demeanor only seemed to hide a deeper layer beneath the surface.
"Ely, why do you think?" he asked with a tilt of his head, as if daring her to read between the lines.
Xhaelyn's sharp eyes didn't leave him, her focus unwavering. She had no intention of letting him dodge her question.
"You've already told me you're hiding things," she said, her voice steady and firm. "I get that. But telling me about your dual abilities, like it's no big deal? That's different."
Zeritheus raised an eyebrow, an amused glint flashing in his eyes, but there was something deeper beneath the amusement—a touch of caution. He seemed to hesitate for just a moment before speaking.
"Xhaelyn," he said, leaning back, his voice quieter now, more contemplative, "I guess I'm starting to trust you. More than I should."
Xhaelyn's eyes narrowed slightly. "Trust me? You don't even know me. So, why?"
Zeritheus sighed, running a hand through his hair, his usual bravado slipping away for just a moment. He seemed to search for the right words, as though he was about to reveal something more vulnerable.
"You're right. I don't know you. But..." He trailed off for a moment, his eyes flicking away. "There's just something about you. You're not like everyone else. You don't play the same games. And you're not scared to ask the hard questions."
Xhaelyn raised an eyebrow. "Is that it? You're trusting me because I don't flinch when you throw some attitude my way?"
Zeritheus chuckled, but this time there was no humor in it. "Something like that," he said, his tone softening. "Look, I don't make friends easily, and I sure as hell don't let people close. But with you... I'm willing to. Maybe it's a mistake, but I can't help it."
Xhaelyn studied him, her gaze unrelenting. She didn't know what to make of his words, but they stirred something in her—a curiosity she hadn't anticipated.
"So, you're willing to tell me about your abilities because you trust me?" she asked, her voice soft but still sharp with that underlying edge.
Zeritheus met her eyes, his expression more serious now. "Yeah. It's stupid, I know. But... I don't think it's a mistake. Not yet."
Xhaelyn stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable, before letting out a quiet chuckle. "You might be wrong about that," she said under her breath, as if to herself. "But I'll let you think you're not."
Zeritheus flashed her a grin, his usual cocky attitude creeping back, but now there was something more genuine in it. "Fair enough," he said, trying to brush off the moment of sincerity. "But don't go getting any funny ideas about me. You're not the only one with secrets."
Xhaelyn nodded slowly, her eyes still studying him. "I know. But trust is a funny thing, Zerith. It takes more than a few words to build it."
Zeritheus leaned back, his smirk never quite leaving, though now there was something thoughtful about it. "I guess we'll see how far this goes, won't we?"
Xhaelyn didn't answer right away, simply allowing the silence to stretch between them. There was something about this moment—something that felt significant—but neither of them spoke it aloud.
In the back of her mind, a voice whispered, Well, it doesn't matter, I guess. After we escape here, we'll part ways anyway.
Zeritheus leaned back against the cold stone wall, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. Xhaelyn's question about trust hung in the air. He'd offered a flippant answer, but the truth was a tangled knot in his chest. He glanced at her, her dark red eyes intense, unwavering. Ely. You really don't know, do you?
A flicker of memory, unbidden, surfaced. A small figure, entirely enveloped in a dark, heavy cloak, huddled in the shadowed corner of a bustling marketplace. Only two striking features were visible: a pair of intensely dark red, almond-shaped eyes that peered out from beneath the concealing fabric. He'd been a ghost in that world, a child unwanted, a consequence of the intertwined ambitions of two powerful dominion leaders – a secret shame neither side truly claimed. The world had always felt like it was pushing him away. Then, for a fleeting moment, those eyes had met his. No judgment, no pity, just… a stark, unwavering gaze that seemed to see him, the discarded boy amidst the chaos. It had lasted no more than a breath, a silent acknowledgment in a world that pretended he didn't exist. Then, just as quickly, the cloaked figure had melted back into the crowd, gone without a word, leaving behind a feeling he'd never quite shaken. A single instance, a silent connection in the vast indifference.
He had no idea who she was, where she came from, or why she was there. But in that brief encounter, amidst a world that felt perpetually hostile, that little girl with the piercing red eyes had offered a silent counterpoint, a fleeting sense of being seen, truly seen, for the first and perhaps only time.
He shook his head slightly, banishing the memory. He wouldn't burden Ely with his sentimental nonsense. Even though their eyes are both dark red...
Meanwhile, Xhaelyn had moved away, the brief intensity of their conversation seemingly forgotten. She was now on the floor, resuming her relentless training. Push-ups, sit-ups, squats – her movements were precise and economical, each repetition a testament to an inner discipline he could only admire.
Zeritheus watched her, a soft sigh escaping his lips unnoticed. Ely, you're something else.
A small silence settled between them, punctuated only by the rhythmic thud of Xhaelyn's body against the stone floor.
"Zerith," Xhaelyn said, pausing mid-squat, her breathing even. "You said you've been here longer. What… what usually happens in a place like this?"
Zeritheus blinked, a shadow crossing his face. He'd been trying not to think about the long-term. "Depends," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "They… assess. See what you're worth."
Xhaelyn pushed herself back up. "Assess how?"
He hesitated, choosing his words. "They watch. Test you, maybe. See what skills you have. Who might pay the most for you." He kept his gaze away from her, the implications hanging heavy in the air.
She nodded once, a small, almost imperceptible movement. Then she continued her squats.
A few more minutes of silence stretched between them, the only sound the soft thud of Xhaelyn's movements.
"Zerith," Xhaelyn paused for a moment, then slowly asked again, "How did you get here? I mean..."
Zeritheus tensed, his gaze flicking towards the door as if the question itself had summoned unwanted attention. He swallowed, a flicker of his usual playful mask returning, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Oh, you know," he said with a casual shrug that felt deliberately unconvincing. "Wrong place, wrong time. Bit of a… misunderstanding." He offered a wry, almost forced smile. "Turns out, some people have a real problem with exceptionally charming individuals just passing through."
His eyes, however, held a flicker of something darker, a brief glimpse of the grudge he usually kept hidden. He didn't meet Xhaelyn's gaze directly, instead focusing on a crack in the stone wall above her head. The lightness in his tone felt strained, a thin veil over something he clearly didn't want to discuss.
"What about you, Ely?" he asked, the question thrown out almost as a diversion. "Did they roll out the red carpet for your grand arrival?"
Hearing his obviously evasive answers, You've just said an hour ago you trust me, but you're tricking me to avoid my question? Ha. Truly capricious, Zerith. Xhaelyn's eyes couldn't help but twitch twice.
Despite her annoyance at his deflection, a small, almost imperceptible curve touched the corner of her lips. She recognized his tactic, the way he hid behind humor and misdirection. It was a dance she was starting to become familiar with.
She then answered his returning question, adopting his own playfully vague approach. "Yeah," she said, her dark red eyes meeting his with a hint of mischief, "they even prepared a grand entrance for me. Very… memorable. I wouldn't want to bore you with the tedious details." She let the implication hang in the air, mirroring his own evasiveness.