The cave was damp, its silence punctuated by the distant sound of dripping water. Edward and Althoria, exhausted and buttered, leaned against opposite walls, their weapons laid within arm's reach. The glow of a small, flickering fire illuminated their faces, softening the hardened expression forged by the chaos of war.
"We were lucky to make it put alive," Edward muttered, breaking the heavy silence.
Althoria, her piercing blue eyes reflecting the firelight, nodded. "Luck had little to do with it. Skill, perhaps. Or stubbornness."
Edward raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips." You're awfully casual with a prince, Althoria."
Her eyes widened slightly; the flicker of surprise quickly masked. "You know my name?"
"Of course, I do. Every soldier in my squad is more than just a title or a role. You're Althoria Veyrthys Aetherion, a mage of exceptional skill. It would be foolish not to know the people I depend on in battle. What I still don't know is where you are from, your name strikes as if you are from the hailed Aetherion mage lineage." He said while looking at her with an eye brow raised.
She looked at him with a wryly smile, then opened her mouth to speak the hesitated, the prince's response making her thinking twice before answering. Because first most nobles viewed soldiers as tools, especially royal families, not individuals. Yet Edward Solari, the sol prince himself, had taken to learn her name.
"Well, sol prince," she replied, leaning into the teasing tone, "it seems you're different from the others."
Edward frowned slightly, his silver eyes narrowing. "You don't call me 'Your Highness' or 'My Lord'. Why?"
She shrugged; her voice steady. "Titles mean little when arrows are flying, and death is just a step behind. On the battlefield, you're a man with a sword, and I'm a mage with spells. It's simpler that way."
Edward leaned back against the cave wall, his expression contemplative. Her words unsettled him, though he couldn't quite say why. Althoria' s lack of deference wasn't disrespectful it was honest, practical, even refreshing.
Their conversation stretched into the night. They shared stories- Edward spoke of his burdens as the younger Solari prince, struggling to prove himself outside the shadows of his family. While Althoria didn't reveal much rather than saying she rebelled against her family, and most of the time pushing the conversation to be about Edward not her. Edward noticed this but he did not push it that far.
For the first time since the ambush, they saw each other not as prince and mage, but as two survivors sharing the same desperate moment.
By dawn, the fire had burned low, and the cave's cold seeped into their bones. "We should move," Edward said, his voice hoarse from fatigue.
Althoria nodded. Together, they navigated the Enchanted Wistoria, relying on her magic to mask their trail and his blade to cut through obstacles and simple monsters. By midday, they found their way back to the camp, greeted by cheers of relief from their comrades