Eloise-
The journey away from town is unlike anything I've ever experienced before. The world I created stretches endlessly before me, untamed and beautiful, full of life and magic that I only ever imagined but never truly *felt* until now.
Caius leads the way through the dense forests and rolling hills, guiding me toward the place he calls the *adventure camp*. It's a temporary refuge, he says, a hidden sanctuary for those who travel, hunt, and seek shelter away from prying eyes.
For the first time in my life, I feel *free*.
No expectations. No deadlines. No rejections. Just the open sky, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, and the steady presence of Caius beside me.
We travel on horseback, the rhythmic movement oddly soothing as I let my mind wander. Caius is quiet for most of the journey, his gaze always scanning the surroundings, ever the warrior. I wonder if he's thinking about what comes next, or if he's simply enjoying the peace—something I imagine he rarely gets.
When we finally reach the camp, the sight of it fills me with unexpected excitement.
Tents are set up near a clear, bubbling stream, and a makeshift fire pit sits in the center, remnants of old embers still lingering. It's simple, nothing extravagant, but to me, it feels... welcoming.
"This is where we'll stay for a few days," Caius says, dismounting his horse with ease before turning to help me down. "It's safe, secluded. No one will find us here."
I slide off the saddle, landing with less grace than I hoped. My legs ache from the long ride, but I don't complain. Instead, I take in my surroundings, inhaling the crisp, fresh air.
"It's... peaceful," I murmur, feeling something warm bloom in my chest.
Caius nods. "It's one of the few places where I don't have to be a hero, or a fallen soldier, or anything else. Just... *me*."
I glance at him, watching the way his expression softens slightly. It makes me wonder—who *is* Caius Drayke when he's not the warrior I created? When he's not burdened by revenge, duty, and war?
I want to know him. The *real* him.
"Come," he says after a moment. "There's something I want to teach you."
### **Hunting Lessons**
I never thought I'd find myself standing in a forest, bow in hand, trying to hunt.
Caius stands behind me, his strong hands adjusting my grip, correcting my stance. I feel the warmth of his presence, his patience as he guides me.
"Relax your shoulders," he instructs, his voice low and steady. "If you're too tense, your shot will miss."
"I *am* relaxed," I huff, trying to ignore the fact that my arms are already aching.
Caius lets out a quiet chuckle, one that I *almost* don't catch. "No, you're not."
I sigh in frustration, but I try again, adjusting my stance the way he showed me. The target is a fair distance away—a simple wooden post marked with red paint. It's not moving, it's not even alive, and yet I'm struggling.
I draw back the bowstring, inhaling deeply before releasing the arrow. It sails through the air... and lands *nowhere near* the target.
A silence stretches between us.
I groan, dropping my arms. "This is impossible."
Caius smirks. "You're overthinking it."
"Well, excuse me for not being a natural-born warrior," I mumble, crossing my arms. "Unlike *some people*."
He steps closer, his gaze studying me for a moment before he takes my hands, positioning them properly. His touch is firm but gentle, guiding me without force.
"This isn't about strength," he says. "It's about control. Focus. Let your body move with the bow, not against it."
I bite my lip, nodding as I prepare to try again. This time, with Caius's guidance, the arrow flies straighter—still missing the target, but at least not embarrassingly so.
A grin tugs at my lips. "Better?"
Caius hums in approval. "Not terrible."
I roll my eyes, but there's a warmth in my chest that I can't ignore.
### **Late-Night Conversations**
That night, as the fire crackles softly between us, I find myself opening up in ways I never have before.
Caius listens, his expression unreadable but his presence grounding me as I speak about my life—my *real* life.
"I never had friends growing up," I admit, staring into the flames. "I was always the quiet kid, the one who spent more time lost in books than talking to people."
Caius watches me, but he doesn't interrupt. He just listens.
"I spent so much time dreaming of other worlds," I continue. "Worlds where I wasn't lonely. Where I *belonged*. That's why I wrote. It wasn't just for fun—it was my escape. My way of creating a place where I mattered."
I let out a small, bitter laugh. "But even in my own stories, I wasn't brave enough to put myself in them. Instead, I created people like *you*. Strong. Resilient. Someone who could survive anything, even when the world tried to break him."
Caius leans forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees. "And yet, here you are. Living in the world you created. Facing the dangers of it."
I nod slowly. "Yeah. Funny how that worked out."
A silence lingers between us. It's not uncomfortable, but there's *something* there—a quiet understanding, an unspoken connection that neither of us are quite ready to acknowledge.
"You're not alone anymore, Eloise," Caius says after a moment, his voice softer than I've ever heard it. "You have me."
Something in my chest tightens at his words. I don't know what it is—relief, gratitude, something deeper that I'm too afraid to name—but I feel it nonetheless.
For the first time in a long time, I don't feel like I'm just existing.
I feel *alive*.