In the same room PT 2

The two continued to stare at each other, Oreon's eyes showing resolve and Sylvanie's searching for anything less than that. Then a small, almost unseeable smile appeared on Sylvanie's face. "Bold words, human. Bold words." She replied as she reached up and thumped him again.

"Ow…Could you stop doing that?" Oreon slightly raised his voice.

"Then stop being stupid." Sylvanie rose from her seat. "Besides, you'd be dead three times over without someone watching your back." She tilted her head, arms still crossed. "Listen up, human."

"It's Oreon." Oreon interrupted her.

"Human…" Sylvanie gave him a deadpan stare, as if the name was final.

Oreon sighed, rubbing his forehead again. "Fine. Whatever."

"Now, as I was saying." A faint smirk touched her lips as she set one hand on her hip. "This isn't just your fight." She nodded toward the washroom. "My sister and I have our own score to settle with your father—and the Order. Don't let her gentle nature fool you. Even though it was brief, she ruled a kingdom." Sylvanie continued. "She's not running away from this fight, and neither am I."

The washroom door opened, releasing a cloud of steam. Celestia stepped out, refreshed by her bath. Her pale blonde hair, now clean and combed, fell down her back, and the simple green dress Meara had provided fit her well, modest enough for a common traveler. Her elven features were still clear up close, but with a hood or scarf, she could pass unnoticed in a crowd. She looked renewed, though weariness still lingered in her eyes as she gently dropped her old, tattered clothes into a small trash bin.

"That was…" She paused, searching for the words. "Heavenly." Her eyes closed briefly in appreciation before she noticed the slight tension between Oreon and Sylvanie. "Have I interrupted something?" She asked, her eyes blinking a bit.

"Nothing important," Sylvanie answered. "Just brainstorming our next move."

Celestia's perceptive gaze shifted between Sylvanie and Oreon, catching more than Sylvanie admitted. She sat on the edge of the bed and combed her fingers through her damp hair.

"The human here was just explaining his plan to face his father alone," Sylvanie added, folding her hands behind her head as she strolled away to grab the clothes Meara had given her.

Celestia's hands paused in her hair as her queen-like gaze fell on Oreon.

"Don't be stupid," Celestia said uncharacteristically, causing a comedic shocked expression from Oreon.

"I—what?" Oreon blinked, completely taken aback. "Did you just—"

"I said, don't be stupid," Celestia repeated, calm but firm as she met his eyes. She resumed combing her fingers through her hair, as if the remark were perfectly ordinary. "Honestly, humans can say the most ridiculous things sometimes."

Sylvanie let out a short, surprised laugh—the first genuine one Oreon had heard from her. "See? Even my sister agrees with me." Smirking, she lifted the clothes Meara had given her and briefly inspected them. "And on that note, I believe it's my turn to bathe." She walked to the washroom, stretching as she reached for the door, then paused with her hand on the handle and glanced back at Oreon. "Celestia, make sure the human doesn't peek," she said, as a faint blush crept across Oreon's face.

"I wasn't—I mean, I wouldn't—" Oreon shouted at her as Celestia gave a small lighthearted smile before nodding her head as Sylvanie walked into the washroom, closing the door behind her. "God, what is her problem?" Oreon said out loud as he crossed his arms, pouting as he looked out the window.

Celestia watched him for a moment, her smile lingering just a little longer before fading. She shifted on the bed, adjusting the simple green dress as she tucked a strand of damp hair behind her pointed ear.

"She's protective," Celestia said gently. "And worried, far more than she'll ever admit." She glanced toward the washroom door, then back at Oreon. "She's been that way since we were young—always the first to rush into danger, always questioning everything, especially the kindness of others."

Oreon turned his head slightly, still looking out the window but clearly listening.

"She doesn't trust easily," Celestia continued, folding her hands in her lap. "But…I think she's starting to trust you. In her own way." She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully. "Otherwise, she wouldn't joke with you as much as she has been."

"I think she left a sore spot on my forehead," Oreon whined, rubbing his forehead gently.

Celestia gave a soft laugh, covering her mouth with one hand. "She does that," she said, her smile returning. "To me as well, actually—usually when I'm too lenient, not listening, or, as she puts it, 'too soft.'" She shook her head fondly. "She means well, even if her methods are… unconventional."

"Hmph, that's one way to put it," Oreon muttered, finally lowering his hand. "Someone should thump her on the forehead." Oreon pouted like a small child. "So she can see how it feels."

Celestia's smile widened slightly, her eyes softening as she watched him. "You're welcome to try," she said lightly, amusement in her voice. "Though I suspect she'd break your finger before you got close."

Water splashed again in the washroom, followed by Sylvanie's light hum as she made herself comfortable. Celestia glanced toward the door, then turned her attention back to Oreon.

"She's not wrong, you know," Celestia said calmly, her tone turning serious. "About facing your father alone." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and clasping her hands. "I understand wanting to confront him and right his wrongs. But throwing your life away won't undo the past. It won't bring back those we've lost… or the people you've lost."

Oreon's jaw clenched, but he stayed silent.

"Alaric commands more than an army—he commands their faith, twisted as it is. The Holy Order believes he was chosen by the divine, and through fear and influence, he has convinced much of the continent that his crusade is holy." She let the words settle. "You cannot fight that alone, no matter how strong your resolve is."

Oreon lowered his gaze to his hands, his fingers curling against his palms. "Even so, he has to be stopped. He's done too much, and under his reign, he's made nearly everyone who isn't blinded by his so-called divine vision afraid." He drew a breath. "When people learn I'm the Purifier's son…" His eyes lifted toward the ceiling. "They pull away. They fear me, hate me, or look at me like I'm the one who destroyed their lives." He sighed. "I suppose it's easier to blame someone within reach than face the real source of the problem."

Celestia's expression softened further. "Being judged for the sins of another." She responded calmly. "I understand that burden. Being held accountable for blood you never spilled. Being responsible for pain you never caused, while others remain oblivious to the travesty that you've endured."

Oreon's eyes met hers, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

"My mother," Celestia continued quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, "was a dark elf. My father, a high elf. Their union was…controversial, to say the least." She slowly stood up from the bed and made her way towards the window where Oreon sat, looking out as her gaze fell upon the small village buildings that surrounded the tavern. "Many in our kingdom never fully accepted me. They saw my mother's bloodline as a stain, despite my father being their king. Sylvanie got it worse—she inherited more of our mother's features, her magic, her…intensity."

Her eyes lowered to Oreon. "So yes, I understand what it means to be judged for who you are instead of what you've done. But…” Her voice grew firmer. "That is exactly why you cannot face your father alone. You are not just fighting him—you are fighting an idea, a belief system, and a crusade built on fear and false righteousness."

Oreon looked up at her, conflict written across his face. "Then what do you suggest?" Before Celestia could answer, the washroom door opened in a burst of steam. Sylvanie stepped out in clean tan clothes—fitted trousers and a loose black tunic that did little to hide her athletic build. Her damp violet hair clung to her shoulders, and her eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of Celestia standing so close to Oreon.

"Did I miss something?" she asked, her tone lighter than before. "Already plotting without me?" She tilted her head slightly.

"Discussing strategy." Celestia corrected gently.

"Just coming up with a plan." Oreon followed right behind her.

Sylvanie crossed the room with the grace of a cat, droplets of water still clinging to her hair. She settled herself on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

"Which is plotting?" Sylvanie responded. "Just with fancier words." She tossed a small white towel aside and fixed her gaze on both Celestia and Oreon. "So, what's the verdict? Did we convince the human that his plan is dumb?"

Celestia glanced at Oreon, then back to her sister. "We were discussing the impossibility of facing his father alone," she said calmly, her hands folding neatly in front of her. "And I was about to suggest an alternative, then. You showed up."

"An alternative?" Sylvanie raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. "You mean besides the obvious 'don't be an idiot and throw your life away' option?"

"Precisely." Celestia's lips curved into a calm but happy smile as Oreon slowly shook his head as he gently rose from his seat.

"How about we discuss that when I get back?" Oreon said, heading toward the washroom. "It's my turn." He picked up the clothes Meara had given him, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him.

Not long after, water began to run—followed by a scream, a crash, and the sound of several things tumbling down on top of Oreon.

"YOU CRAZY ELF!" Oreon shouted from where he had crashed to the floor. "You used the last of the hot water!"

The outburst shattered the serious mood. Celestia covered her mouth, trying and failing to hold back a surprised laugh, while Sylvanie made no effort to hide her satisfaction. A wicked grin spread across her face as she crossed one bare leg over the other.

"Did I?" She called back sweetly, though there was absolutely zero remorse in her tone. "How terribly inconsiderate of me, human."

Celestia continued giggling softly. "Sylvanie," she chided.

"What?" Sylvanie replied innocently, "I needed to make sure I was properly clean. I can't walk around smelling like some old, outdated dungeon, can I?" Stretched languidly on the bed, clearly enjoying herself. "Besides, cold water builds character."

"YOU TRIED TO FREEZE ME TO DEATH!" Oreon shouted from behind the door. A sharp slip and splash followed as he fell into the tub, ending with a low groan and a muffled, "I hate you."

Sylvanie's grin only widened. "You'll survive," she called back, lazily stretching one foot into the air before crossing her legs again. She lay back with her arms behind her head, completely at ease. "I've seen you take worse."

Celestia shook her head as Oreon's muttered curses carried through the door. "You really can be terrible sometimes," she said, moving to sit beside her sister on the bed. "We should probably warm the water for him."

"Absolutely not," Sylvanie replied immediately, her grin widening even further. "Let him suffer a little. Builds character, as I said." She glanced at Celestia with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Besides, he needs to learn that actions have consequences—or having idiotic ideas has consequences, whichever comes first."

"You could stand to be at least a little nicer to him," Celestia responded. "I think he's been through enough for one day."

Sylvanie glanced over at her sister for a moment, her eyes blinking at the statement she had just made. "Nah, I think it builds trust."

Celestia blinked, tilting her head slightly. "Trust?" She repeated, genuinely confused. "How does freezing him in cold water build trust?"

Sylvanie shrugged, completely unbothered. "Simple. If he puts up with my antics and still sticks around, then I know he's serious." She picked at a loose thread on the worn blanket. "Besides, actions speak louder than words, sister. We've only known him for a day—nowhere near long enough to fully trust him."

Celestia set her right index finger against her chin, head tilted with a coy smile. "And yet, in one day, he broke us out of the Order's dungeon, helped us cut down their soldiers, ran through their corridors when we lost our way, helped us escape the fortress, fought one of our corrupted traitors, and faced a Voidborne with us. I'd say our situation is a little different."

Sylvanie's fingers stilled on the loose thread. Her crimson eyes shifted to Celestia, narrowing as she weighed her sister's words. For one brief moment, her expression softened—then she hid it behind a dismissive scoff.

"Fine," She muttered, rolling onto her side to face away from Celestia. "When you put it like that, it sounds like…a lot."

"More than any regular human could handle, I'm sure," Celestia responded.

From the washroom, Oreon muttered through the door, "Stupid dark elf, making me freeze in cold water." His complaint only made Sylvanie snicker before she glanced back at her sister.

"See? He's already complaining about me specifically," Sylvanie said with a smirk. "That means he's comfortable enough to insult me. Progress."

Celestia shook her head, though her smile remained on her face. "That's…Not quite how trust works. Sylvanie."

"Sure it is," Sylvanie replied, propping herself on one elbow. "You don't complain about someone unless you think they'll listen—or at least not kill you for it." Her expression turned a little more serious. "And after everything he's risked for us, giving him a hard time is the least I can do. It keeps things from getting too… sentimental."

"You're deflecting." Celestia's eyes studied her sister.

"I'm being practical." Sylvanie corrected.

"You're starting to warm up to him." Celestia countered.

"Shut up." Was Sylvanie's only response.

Celestia's smile widened knowingly as Sylvanie's ears turned faintly pink at the tips, giving her away no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

"You are," Celestia pressed gently, teasing her. "It normally takes you a lot longer to 'joke' with someone, and I can always tell when you're—"

"I said shut up!" Sylvanie cut in, burying her face in the pillow with an exaggerated groan. Her voice came out muffled. "You're reading too much into it."

"Am I?" Celestia tilted her head, clearly enjoying this rare moment of having the upper hand over her usually unshakeable sister. "Because earlier today, you were ready to...what did you say?" She thought playfully. "Oh? Rip his throat out with your teeth when he freed us, and now you're…Oh, what was it? Building his character? Making sure he's serious?" She used air quotes around the last word.

Sylvanie tilted her head just enough to glare at Celestia with one visible eye. "That was different. Back then, I didn't know if he was sincere or setting us up for some cruel trick. Given our situation, I wasn't about to let him catch us off guard." She shifted onto her side to face her sister. "People lie all the time, Celestia. Especially humans."

"Elves are no different, you know?" Celestia raised an eyebrow. "No one race lies more than the other."

"I know, but still… trust isn't built in a day. Not real trust anyway." She glanced at Celestia. "You know that better than anyone."

Celestia's expression softened, her smile fading. She understood exactly what Sylvanie meant; in the elven kingdom, trust had always been fragile.

"You're right, I—"

Before Celestia could finish, the washroom door opened. Oreon stepped out with wet hair and a white towel draped over his head, dressed in a white shirt and dark trousers. He made his way toward Sylvanie, eyes fixed on her in a glare.

"Next time," Oreon said, pointing at Sylvanie, "I'm bathing first." Grumbling under his breath, he limped back to the window seat and eased himself down, resting his head on the pillow propped against the wall.

Sylvanie sat up slightly, watching Oreon limp away with a look caught between amusement and satisfaction. "Oh? So, there'll be a next time?" she teased. "That's rather presumptuous of you, human."

"Sylvanie," Celestia warned gently, though her tone was no different than her sister's.

"What, I'm just clarifying. He's already making plans for us to do this again. That's quite forward of him. I don't remember the elven men being this upfront." She snickered.

"That's not what I meant!" Oreon shouted back.

Sylvanie's grin widened, clearly enjoying his flustered reaction. "Then what did you mean?" she teased. "Because it sounded like you planned to stay with us long enough for a 'next time.'"

Oreon opened his mouth, then closed it again, searching for the right words. His fingers tightened around the towel at his neck as he shifted awkwardly against the pillow. "I just meant… if we're stuck together, then we'll probably be traveling as a group for a while, so—"

"Ah, so you are planning on sticking around," Sylvanie interrupted smoothly, leaning forward slightly. "Interesting."

"Stop putting words in my mouth," Oreon muttered, his ears turning slightly red as he avoided her gaze.

Celestia watched quietly, hands folded in her lap. Something was endearing about seeing Sylvanie tease someone who could keep up with her, even while flustered. Most people either cowered or snapped back when Sylvanie played her games, but Oreon only seemed annoyed—frustrated, perhaps, but never hostile.

"You're impossible,' Oreon finally grumbled, setting himself more comfortably against the cushion. "I'm trying to rest here."

"Then rest," Sylvanie replied, though her smirk remained. "No one's stopping you."

"You're still talking."

"Technically, you're the one who keeps responding," She pointed out. "If you really wanted to rest, you'd just ignore me."

Oreon's jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked ready to argue. Instead, he turned toward the window and deliberately closed his eyes.

Exhaustion claimed the three before long. Celestia slept neatly beneath the covers, while Sylvanie sprawled across the bed with one arm and leg kicked free. Oreon remained propped on the window seat, uncovered yet peaceful. And so, the rest of the night passed without incident.

-Meanwhile, back in the forest they escaped from-

Rot's body was left behind in the same forest the trio had escaped from. Sylvanie's final stomp had crushed his face, while his severed right arm lay a few feet from the corpse. The large X Sylvanie and Celestia had carved into his chest during their final attack still looked fresh.

Footsteps approached, and shadows fell over the corpse. Five cloaked figures now surrounded Rot's body, silent as they stared down at him. At their center, one figure stood still, red eyes narrowing slightly beneath its hood.

The figure knelt beside Rot's mangled corpse, head tilted as its red eyes examined the damage. A slow, measured breath slipped out from beneath the hood.

"Pathetic," The figure murmured, voice smooth yet laced with disdain. "To think he fell to two elves and a human…Blessings wasted, how disappointing."

One of the cloaked figures to the left shifted slightly. "Should we retrieve what remains of him?" A feminine voice spoke under the hood.

"No," came the sharp reply. The red-eyed figure reached toward the gaping wound in Rot's chest, bleached-gray fingers and sharp nails hovering just above it. Dark energy seeped from the corpse, wisps of shadow curling upward like smoke. "Let the forest take what's left of him." The figure turned toward the direction the trio had fled hours ago. "He failed. There's no reason to bring back a failure's corpse."

Another figure spoke up; this one's voice was higher-pitched and eager. "What about the elves? And the human who helped them?"

The center figure continued to stare in the direction that undoubtedly led to the escapees as a sick grin slowly spread across its face. "We succeed, where this fool has failed." The figure licked its lips, a pale pink tongue slithering out of its mouth, rolling in a slow circle. "It's our turn."