As I sat in the medical tent, sipping the warm tea, I suddenly heard the sound of approaching footsteps, rapid and uneven. My heart leaped into my throat. It was them.
A moment later, Cassianus, Adrien, and Indraneel burst into the tent, their faces etched with worry. Cassianus and Adrien rushed to my side, their hands hovering over me, as if afraid to touch me for fear of causing more pain. But Indraneel's eyes were focused elsewhere.
"Where's Elian?" he demanded, his voice tight with anxiety. The question hit me like a physical blow, a stark reminder of my failure. A wave of disappointment washed over me. He didn't even ask if I was okay, if I was hurt. His first thought was for Elian.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I met his gaze, my voice trembling. "He's gone," I whispered. "He's missing. We got separated, and then... I heard him scream, and when I went back, he was gone."
I quickly added, "I already told the knights. They're organizing a search party. They're doing everything they can to find him."
But Indraneel wasn't listening. He didn't even let me finish my sentence. Instead, his eyes blazing with a mixture of fear and determination, he turned and ran back out of the tent, disappearing into the darkness of the forest. "Indraneel!" I called after him, but he didn't stop, didn't even look back.
I watched him go, my heart sinking with each step he took. Cassianus and Adrien exchanged worried glances, then turned their attention back to me.
"What happened, Quincey?" Cassianus asked gently, his voice laced with concern. "Tell us everything."
I recounted the events of the day, starting from the moment we were ensnared in the monstrous spider's web, to Elian's botched spell, to our argument, and finally, to his disappearance. As I spoke, my voice broke with emotion, and tears streamed down my face once again.
When I finished, Cassianus and Adrien were silent, their faces grim. They didn't say anything, didn't offer any words of comfort. They just sat there, listening, their presence a silent reassurance that I wasn't alone.
After a few minutes, Adrien spoke up, his voice low and serious. "We need to go after them," he said. "We can't just sit here and wait."
Cassianus nodded in agreement. "Adrien's right," he said. "We need to do something. Adrien, you should follow Indraneel. Try to find Elian, but also, be careful. See if you can find any clues about what happened to him. We need to know what we're dealing with." He turned to me, his expression softening. "I'm going to stay here with Quincey. He needs someone to keep him company."
Adrien nodded, his face determined. "Alright," he said, glancing out of the tent. "I'll go. But be careful, both of you. This forest is dangerous, and we don't know what's out there."
He squeezed my shoulder briefly, a silent promise of his return, then ducked out of the tent, disappearing into the darkness.
Cassianus sighed and settled back against the cot beside me, his presence a comforting weight in the small space. "Don't worry, Quincey," he said, his voice gentle. "We'll find him. We always do."
But I couldn't shake the feeling that this time was different. This time, something terrible had happened. And I couldn't help but blame myself.
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The hours that followed stretched on endlessly. Cassianus stayed by my side, offering quiet conversation and unwavering support, but my mind was consumed with worry for Elian and Indraneel. I couldn't sleep, every rustle of leaves, every distant howl sending shivers down my spine. The thought of Elian, lost and alone in the forest, possibly injured or worse, haunted my every waking moment.
It was early morning when I finally heard footsteps approaching the tent again. My heart leaped with a mixture of hope and dread. It was Indraneel and Adrien. Indraneel's shoulders were slumped, his face pale and drawn, his eyes filled with a profound sadness. He paced back and forth, agitated and restless, his usual composure completely shattered. Just from looking at him, I knew.
Despite the crushing weight of the unspoken truth, I forced myself to speak. "Indraneel?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Did you...did you find him? Is there any news?"
Indraneel stopped pacing and looked at me, his eyes filled with a raw grief that made my own pain pale in comparison. He shook his head slowly, the movement barely perceptible. "No," he said, his voice flat and lifeless. "We didn't find him. He's still out there."
The words hit me like a physical blow, confirming my worst fears. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I couldn't hold back the wave of self-blame that washed over me. "It's my fault," I sobbed, my voice cracking with emotion. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't left him, if I had just stayed with him..."
Indraneel's eyes flashed with anger, and he turned on me, his voice sharp and accusatory. "Yes, Quincey," he snapped, his voice laced with venom. "It is your fault!"
The force of his words stung more than any physical blow. I flinched, recoiling from the raw anger in his eyes. He had never spoken to me like that before, never directed such unfiltered rage at me.
"If you hadn't been so reckless, so selfish," Indraneel continued, his voice trembling with emotion, "he would still be here. You abandoned him, Quincey. You left him to fend for himself."
The accusations were like knives, twisting in my gut. I wanted to defend myself, to explain my actions, but the words caught in my throat. He was right. I had left Elian. I had prioritized my own anger and frustration over his safety. And now, he was gone.
"I know," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "I know it's my fault. I'm so sorry, Indraneel. I'm so sorry."
But my apology seemed to fuel his anger even further. He glared at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of grief and resentment. "Sorry isn't going to bring him back, Quincey," he said coldly. "Sorry isn't going to change what happened."
He turned away from me, his back stiff with disapproval, and was about to walk out of the tent, leaving me alone with my guilt and despair. The weight of his words settled heavily on my chest, crushing my spirit. While I knew, deep down, that I shared the blame for what had happened, hearing it from Indraneel, in such a harsh and unforgiving way, was almost unbearable. The pain of losing Elian was compounded by the realization that I had likely destroyed my relationship with Indraneel in the process.
Just as Indraneel reached the entrance of the tent, Cassianus stepped forward, his presence a shield against the storm of my emotions. He placed a comforting hand on Indraneel's arm, stopping him in his tracks.
"That's not quite right, Indraneel," Cassianus said, his voice firm but measured. "Quincey is already blaming himself enough. He doesn't need you piling on." He turned to me, his eyes softening with compassion. "It's not your fault, Quincey," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You made a mistake, yes, but you didn't intentionally hurt Elian. You were both scared and stressed, and you reacted in the heat of the moment."
He continued, his voice growing more impassioned. "Besides, Elian is responsible for his own actions too. He shouldn't have wandered off like that, especially knowing how dangerous the forest is. We all make mistakes, Indraneel. We need to support each other, not tear each other down. Blaming Quincey won't bring Elian back."
Indraneel stood frozen, his back still to me, his body radiating tension. He didn't respond to Cassianus's words, didn't acknowledge his presence in any way. The silence in the tent was thick and heavy, punctuated only by the sound of my own ragged breathing.
After a long moment, Indraneel finally spoke, his voice low and strained. "I know," he said, the word barely audible. "But I can't help it. I'm just...scared. I'm terrified of losing him."
He turned to face us then, his eyes filled with a raw vulnerability that I had rarely seen before. "I know it's not entirely Quincey's fault," he continued, his voice softening slightly. "But I'm just so angry, so frustrated. I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless."
He ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mixture of grief and desperation. "I just want him back," he whispered. "I just want Elian to be safe...and back in my arms." The last part was barely audible, a raw, vulnerable admission that underscored the depth of his feelings for Elian.
Hearing those words, a sharp pang of something akin to hurt resonated within me. My heart pounded in my chest, not with the warmth of affection or the excitement of longing, but with a hollow ache, a painful awareness of my place on the periphery. It was a stark reminder that, despite our shared experiences and the bond we had forged, I would always be on the outside, looking in at a love that I could never fully share. The realization stung, a bitter taste on my tongue.