Belial hesitated, staring at his hand. The faint glow of the crystalline chamber cast jagged shadows across his knuckles, and for a moment, he could almost see the accusation in Xin's voice etched into his skin.
"You're heartless!" The words had burrowed into his mind, sharp and unrelenting, like a splinter he couldn't quite pluck out.
They stung more than they should've, more than he wanted to admit. He wasn't heartless. He wasn't. And yet, the weight of those words pressed against his chest, daring him to prove them wrong.
His gaze flicked to Rose, who stood a few paces away, her silhouette framed against the blue light of the moonlight above. She was watching him, her head tilted slightly, a playful glint in her eyes that made his stomach twist in a way he didn't entirely dislike. He shook his head, banishing the thought. Without another word, he extended his hand toward her.
Rose blinked, her eyes widening in mock surprise. She pressed a hand to her lips, as if stifling a blush. "Oh my, how romantic~" she teased, her voice lilting with exaggerated sweetness. Then, with a smirk that promised mischief, she took his hand, her fingers warm and surprisingly steady against his.
Belial rolled his eyes, his grip tightening just enough to keep her close as they began their ascent. "You're insufferable," he muttered under his breath, but he didn't let go.
With a quick, practiced jump, he led her across the floating rocks that formed a precarious path toward the exit. The air hummed with odd energy, the faint pulse of Ether vibrating through the stones beneath their feet.
To his surprise, Rose wasn't heavy. Not at all. Her weight felt… normal, perfectly balanced, as if she were gliding rather than leaping. Even in midair, she moved with an effortless grace that made him pause.
Is she using Ether? he wondered, his mind racing. In a way I don't know? The thought nagged at him, but before he could voice it, Rose's attention shifted.
Her gaze drifted downward, toward the heart of the forge—a massive, circular seal that pulsed faintly at the chamber's lowest point. It glowed with an otherworldly light, its intricate carvings barely visible from this distance. Belial spared it a glance but didn't linger. Whatever secrets it held could wait. He had other priorities.
He guided her up the spiraling stairs, their footsteps echoing faintly against the ancient stone. The crumbled remains of statue soldiers littered the path, their broken forms a testament to battles long forgotten. They passed the empty library shelves, once filled with tomes of knowledge now lost to time, and finally reached the large chamber that had served as Belial's living quarters for the past two years.
The room was massive, its high ceilings adorned with crystalline chandeliers that shimmered like captured stars. A bed, far too luxurious for a place so desolate, dominated the space—its carved frame etched with symbols that hinted at its previous occupant, some ancient, forgotten being whose name had long since faded. The air here was cooler, the oppressive heat of the forge replaced by a quiet stillness that felt almost sacred.
As they stepped inside, Rose's grin returned, sharp and teasing. "Oh? Taking me to your bedroom right after we met? How bold," she said, her voice dripping with mock scandal as she pressed a hand to her chest.
Belial groaned, his patience wearing thin. "As if."
"You're missing out~," she sing-songed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
He pointed to the far end of the bed, his expression flat. "You can have that end. Don't cross the middle."
"Yes, sir!" Rose replied, throwing up an exaggerated salute that made him want to strangle her. Or laugh. He wasn't sure which.
A brief, rare silence settled between them, the kind that felt heavy with unspoken questions. Belial broke it first, his voice quieter than before. "How long were you down there?"
Rose tilted her head, her brow furrowing as she considered the question. "Not sure," she admitted, her tone unusually soft. "I fell from the summit. Wasn't paying attention. That was… until my prince in shining armor rescued me." She winked, tossing him a small crystal she'd been holding in her hand.
Belial caught it on instinct, the smooth surface cool against his palm. His ears burned, a faint shade of red creeping up them as he turned away quickly to hide it. "Don't call me that," he muttered, shoving the crystal into his pocket.
"What about you?" Rose asked, her voice curious but gentle, as if she sensed the weight behind his silence.
"I fell too," he said, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Caught myself, though. I've been here… one year...i think"
Rose echoed softly, "One year, huh…" Her words slithered, heavy with something unspoken. She sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, her playful demeanor tempered by a quiet thoughtfulness.
Belial moved to a pile of crystalline objects in the corner, his movements deliberate as he sifted through them. He pulled out a thick, glowing tome, its cover etched with runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light. Sitting down beside her, he flipped it open without a word, the pages crackling with latent energy.
Rose blinked, squinting at the book in the low light. "Wait—is that a comically large book? Or are you just too short for big-boy books?"
Belial peeked over the top of the tome, his expression deadpan. "It's from the people who lived here, dimwit."
"Mmhm," Rose replied, rolling her eyes. "Ancient secret knowledge, I'm sure."
Her gaze wandered to the center of the bed, where a wooden board with carved pieces sat untouched. The Shogi setup was meticulously arranged, each piece placed with care, as if waiting for a game that never came. "…What's with that board?" she asked, gesturing toward it.
Belial didn't look up from the book just yet, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He didn't know how to explain it—Shogi wasn't a game most people knew, especially not someone like Rose, who seemed more at home with teasing than strategy.
"It's chess," he lied, his voice steady despite the small pang of guilt. It was easier than explaining something so personal, so tied to the long, lonely hours he'd spent here.
Rose raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but letting it slide. "Chess, huh? Didn't peg you for the type. You any good?"
"Good enough," he said, his tone clipped as he turned a page. The truth was, he'd played countless games against himself, moving pieces back and forth across the board in an attempt to fill the silence. It wasn't about winning or losing—it was about control, about making sense of a world that had spiraled out of his grasp.
Rose leaned back on her hands, her gaze drifting to the ceiling. "One year," she said again, almost to herself. "That's a long time to be stuck in a place like this. No wonder you're so grumpy."
"I'm not grumpy," he shot back, though there was no real heat in his voice.
"Sure you're not," she said, smirking. "You're just a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"
He ignored her, focusing on the tome instead. The runes glowed faintly under his touch, their meaning elusive but tantalizingly close. He'd spent months deciphering fragments of the ancient language, piecing together scraps of knowledge about the forge, the seal, and the beings who had built this place. It was slow work, but it was something to hold onto—a purpose in a place that seemed designed to strip it away.
Rose watched him for a moment, her usual playfulness giving way to something softer. "You really think that book's got the answers to getting out of here?"
"Maybe," he said, not looking up. "It's all I've got."
She nodded, her expression unreadable. "Fair enough."
Another silence stretched between them, but this one felt different, less heavy, more companionable. Belial found himself glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, noting the way her fingers tapped idly against the bed, the way her eyes seemed to see more than she let on. She was a mystery, one he wasn't sure he wanted to solve. Not yet.
"So," she said, breaking the silence. "You gonna teach me how to play that 'chess' game of yours, or what?"
He snorted, closing the tome with a soft thud. "You'd probably cheat."
"Me? Cheat?" She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mock offense. "I'm wounded, Nero. Wounded."
He shook his head, but a small smile tugged at his lips. For the first time in two years, the chamber didn't feel quite so empty. And as he looked at Rose, her teasing grin lighting up the dim room, he thought maybe this roommate would be a nice change.