The Return of Corey

The dimness reigned, and silence tightened like an invisible knot that strangled every vestige of life. Grey lay on the ground, inert except for the measured calm of his breathing. The rough rocks beneath his back offered no comfort, forcing him to move with small contortions, seeking relief that he could not find.

Finally, he cracked open his eyes, a faint glow filled with pain illuminating his gaze. A groan escaped his lips as a searing whip of agony pierced through his abdomen, prompting him to rise, albeit with effort. He looked around and, upon recognizing the damp and gloomy walls surrounding him, let out a heavy sigh laden with resignation.

—Back in a cave again… —he murmured, lowering his gaze to his belly, where the skin showed recent traces of a closed wound but no scar. He frowned in confusion—What...? The bruise has disappeared… How?

—With my help, —a soft but firm feminine voice responded, emerging from the shadows like a cool breeze after a hot day. The figure of a woman revealed itself, her steps light and graceful as if she floated above the ground. Her golden hair shone even in the dim light, and her green eyes seemed to sparkle with hidden fire. She knelt before him, her pale skin brushing delicately against Grey's torso, leaving behind a trace of something viscous and warm.

Grey's amber eyes met those of the woman, and in that instant, a strange connection flickered between them. Beyond the initial bewilderment, his body began to absorb the substance she had left behind, and renewed energy flowed through his veins.

—Who are you? —Grey finally asked, his voice trembling between disbelief and a strange sense of familiarity. The intensity of his gaze spoke of something deeper, a glimpse of an unknown emotion resonating in the depths of his being.

—My name is Camellya Gallant, and I am your fiancée. Or at least, that seems to be the case, —she replied with a sigh that conveyed both resignation and a hint of irony. Her lips curved into a half-smile as she continued—You were losing a lot of blood… The wound in your abdomen suddenly opened up, so I did what I could to heal you. Although, to be honest, your body did most of the work.

Grey blinked, clearly perplexed. His lips moved in an attempt to articulate a coherent response.

—Ah, um… thank you very much, —he finally said, his voice laden with a mix of gratitude and confusion. The word fiancée seemed to choke in his throat; it felt foreign and strange yet heavy with significance—"What do you mean you're my fiancée? I… don't know you.

—Neither do I know you, —Camellya admitted, her tone lighter but her words heavy with an undercurrent of restrained emotions—I didn't want to accept something like this with someone I had never seen before, but it seems I had no choice. —She extended a hand holding a cup filled with an opaque and unappetizing liquid—Here, drink this. It will ease your internal pain.

Grey accepted the cup reluctantly, eyeing its contents with a furrowed brow. However, something in Camellya's gaze disarmed him; it was as if an inexplicable latent trust whispered in his ear that it was safe.

He drank. The bitter liquid made him grimace but he swallowed it in one go, feeling warmth spread through his chest as it began to dissipate the pain. Camellya supported him as he stood up, allowing him to lean against the cold wall of the cave.

—"How do you know you're my fiancée?" —he finally asked as curiosity overcame discomfort—"If you know this, someone must have told you, right?"

Camellya looked down, playing with a strand of hair.

—It was… your master. A thousand years ago, I think. He told me it would be necessary and forced me to accept it. I didn't understand why, but here I am. After that, he locked me in this cave to prevent me from aging.

Grey nodded slowly, processing the information while observing the walls around them, laden with mana so dense it seemed to vibrate in the air.

—Certainly this place stops time. I can feel it in the halt of natural flow and the exorbitant concentration of magical energy, —he murmured. Then he added more to himself—My master always had… unique ideas.

The atmosphere felt heavier; their words flowed cautiously between them as they built a bridge between strangers united by an alien destiny. When Camellya lifted her scythe, its white blade glimmering faintly, Grey broke the silence.

—That thing looks dangerous, —he remarked with a tone that was both curious and cautious.

—It is, —Camellya admitted with a slight smile—It was a gift from your master before he disappeared. He said it would be useful someday, though I don't know exactly when.

—I hope you know how to use it. I don't think we can afford mistakes.

—I know the basics, —she said, looking at him with some expectation—Your master mentioned that you could handle any weapon. Maybe you can teach me.

—Well, I've never had a scythe in my hands, so I can't help you much… at least not until you use it in combat and gain some experience, —he said with a light smile, though the weight of his fatigue still lingered in his tone.

They walked together, the echo of their footsteps resonating between the cave walls, until the path abruptly stopped in front of a solid wall. Grey halted suddenly, looking with annoyance at the obstruction, while a faint sigh escaped his lips.

—Now what? —he asked, his voice laden with a boredom that barely concealed his frustration.

Camellya examined the wall and then looked down, clearly upset with herself.

—I don't know, —she admitted hesitantly—I've never gone past the room we were in… —Her words faltered, heavy with disappointment. Throughout all the time she had been locked away, she had never dared to explore further. Though she knew she should have done so, the fear of finding Grey dead in her absence had held her back. That mission imposed upon her had been her only guide and burden.

Grey frowned, his gaze fixed on the wall, but the intensity of his thoughts was reflected in his expression.

—What's above this cave?"—he asked suddenly, his tone more serious.

Camellya tilted her head, suspicious for a moment.

—Water. This cave is right beneath the ocean. Why?

Grey let out a long, heavy sigh as if he had expected a different answer, but it was clear he had already made a decision.

—Ah… then there's no other option.

He approached the wall, placing a hand against its cold surface. His eyes closed in concentration, and his breathing deepened. A faint light began to emanate from the tips of his fingers, quickly taking the form of a magical circle etched into the rock. The glow intensified, and the wall began to crackle as the magical circle crumbled the earth within its bounds.

The effort took its toll. Grey gasped for breath, his body trembling slightly from exhaustion. When the circle finally completed its task and left a perfectly formed opening, he stepped back from the wall, his breath coming in short gasps.

Camellya immediately moved closer, supporting him gently. There was something familiar about what she had just witnessed, a flicker in her memory that she could not pinpoint, but she knew Grey was at his limit.

—Wait, drink this, —she said as she pulled out a small vial and offered it to him.

Grey drank without objection, letting out a soft grunt at the bitter taste of the liquid.

—Thank you, —he murmured, feeling his body stabilize slightly.

Camellya looked at the opening in the wall; it was a narrow exit but large enough for both of them to pass through.

—What did you do? —she asked, her eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and admiration.

Grey offered a faint smile even as he leaned heavily against her.

—Our way out. Though it cost me more mana than I had calculated. I'm not sure where it will lead us; it could be the ocean, a river… or something worse.

Camellya nodded with determination, positioning herself beside him and ensuring he could lean on her shoulders.

—Understood. You're exhausted, so don't worry; I'll help you move forward.

Grey sighed again, this time more relieved. Although his body felt like dead weight, Camellya's warm gesture provided him with small comfort. Together they ventured into the opening, their steps echoing in the narrow passage that Grey had created.

The air was thick with humidity and tension from the unknown. Neither of them knew what to expect on the other side, but they pressed on, guided by a mix of hope and necessity. For Grey, this path was not just an escape; it was a doorway to an uncertain destiny that began to emerge on the horizon.