Aelorin groaned as he sat upright, his muscles sore from the recent ordeal. Now that he was more alert, he could finally get a clear look at his supposed "savior." The sight made him pause. She had horns on her head, twisting upward like dark spirals, and her attire, or lack thereof, was certainly… minimal. What fabric remained was ragged and barely clung to her frame, revealing far more skin than Aelorin was accustomed to. The years—perhaps even decades—spent alone in this desolate crack had clearly worn away at her clothing. She looked like someone who'd scavenged scraps just to survive, yet there was an odd grace about her.
"So," Aelorin ventured, his voice carrying equal parts curiosity and suspicion, "you saved me because… you want a duel?"
The woman nodded with a sly grin. "Yes, but we don't have to fight immediately. I'd prefer if we talked a little first. After all, it's not every day I meet an elf—or any being with higher intelligence—who managed to survive the fall."
She moved even closer, her face barely an inch from his. Aelorin froze, startled by her lack of respect for personal space. Her gaze was intense, unyielding, almost as if she could see through him entirely. He shifted uncomfortably, thinking, *So she's not human, not an elf… but what kind of creature—*
"I'm a devil," she interjected before he could even finish his thought, her tone casual as if announcing the weather. "That's what they call me—'the devil from hell.'"
Aelorin raised an eyebrow. "Devil? You don't look very… devilish. If anything, you're just… well, distracting." He cleared his throat, averting his eyes. "Besides, why save me if you're just going to kill me later? Doesn't exactly scream 'good intentions.'"
She sighed, pulling back with exaggerated patience. "Maybe I shouldn't have started with that. I don't want to kill you just yet. Maybe later." She shrugged as though this was no big deal.
"Right, because that's reassuring," Aelorin muttered, shaking his head. "You've been down here too long if you think that's normal."
"Are you done whining?" she asked, sounding genuinely annoyed. "Just have a conversation with me before I change my mind."
Aelorin growled, clenching his fists. She was strange, unpredictable. Probably because she'd been cut off from civilization for so long. *Can she read my mind? How much does she know?* The thoughts raced through his head. *And what kind of devil is she, really?*
"As I said, I'm a devil," she answered, again as if reading his mind, "or so they call me."
Aelorin scoffed. "Devil, huh? Doesn't exactly add up. You don't look terrifying, more like… tempting," he said, looking her up and down despite himself. "Why would they call you a devil?"
She narrowed her eyes, and a faint, dangerous smile curved her lips. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Her tone was playful, but the look in her eyes told Aelorin it wasn't a mere jest.
*It's always about killing with this one,* he thought, mentally chastising himself for underestimating her unpredictability. He tried to blank his mind, knowing she'd read him like an open book otherwise. But, predictably, the more he tried to stop thinking, the harder it was to quiet his thoughts.
Her laughter rang out, light yet slightly wicked. "Hahaha! You're so funny, Dark Cell. The mind can't stop thinking, you fool. This makes me reconsider killing you. You amuse me," she giggled uncontrollably, the sound almost too cheerful for someone who claimed to be a devil.
Aelorin's face flushed. This wasn't just a devil; this was a lunatic trapped in a crack in the earth for far too long.
"Alright, Devil Girl," he said, trying to maintain some dignity. "What's your name?"
"Shayla," she answered smoothly, "or 'Hell Hose,' whichever you prefer."
He paused at "hose," his mind drifting to thoughts he shouldn't have. *Hose as in…?*
"Hey!" She smacked him lightly across the head, eyes narrowed in mock accusation. "Quit staring at me like a creep."
He rubbed the back of his head, indignant. "Then wear more clothes. I'm still a guy, you know."
She gave him a sly grin. "Not with that thing under your trousers," she teased, raising an eyebrow.
Aelorin's face turned beet red. This was worse than a death sentence—this was public humiliation at its finest, and there was no audience to witness his misery.
"But," she said, leaning back, smirking, "I could fix that for you if you manage to interest me enough."
"What?!" he yelped, his voice coming out more high-pitched than intended. "Anything! I mean—" He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "What kind of help, exactly?"
She examined him with a calculating gaze, her demeanor shifting from playful to contemplative. "I see potential in you, Dark Cell. Enough that I believe I could train you to be stronger, to meet my expectations. Impress me, and I might restore your honor… as a man." She crossed her arms, clearly enjoying the effect of her words.
Aelorin blinked. "Train me? But… what exactly makes you think a devil can train an elf? I don't even understand what you can do or why you're down here in the first place."
Shayla's expression darkened, and she sighed, the lightheartedness fading. "I can train you, Aelorin, because you and I are similar. We're both Majestic Beasts, in a way. But if you really want to know why I was trapped here…" She hesitated, giving him a long, meaningful look. "You'd be putting yourself in grave danger even after you leave this place. Knowing my past is a risk not everyone would take."
*Trapped,* he thought, mulling over the word carefully. Whatever knowledge she had, whatever secrets she held… they could be valuable. The truth of his surroundings, the crack, and this woman's bizarre intentions hung just out of reach, waiting for him to decide.
"Fine," he said after a long pause. "Tell me. I want to know."
Shayla closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, gathering her thoughts. "This place, this crack in the Great Lands, is no ordinary canyon. It's a prison, built specifically for me." Her gaze sharpened, like a storm gathering behind her eyes. "I was sealed here because, in the Great War, I fought on the wrong side. The side they didn't want to win."
Aelorin could feel the weight of her words, as if they carried centuries of bitterness. "So… you were punished for that?"
"Punished doesn't quite cover it," she replied bitterly. "I was locked away here, alone, for all these years. No sun, no stars. Just rock and silence. They wanted me to disappear."
"And the side you fought for?" Aelorin pressed, sensing he was on thin ice.
Shayla's face grew hard, but there was a glimmer of pride in her eyes. "The side that challenged the order of things. We didn't believe in following blindly, and that made us dangerous. So they erased us."
For a moment, neither spoke. Aelorin grappled with this new information, his mind spinning. She had once been a force of rebellion, a challenge to the established power, yet now she was trapped in isolation.
"But why save me?" he asked, his voice softer, more uncertain.
"Because I need a duel, Aelorin. Something to remind me of what it's like to feel alive again." Her eyes held a strange light, one he couldn't quite read. "And maybe, just maybe, you'll surprise me."
Aelorin's heart thudded in his chest, fear mingling with curiosity. This "devil" who had spent so many years locked away was far from what he had imagined. There was depth to her, a past she still clung to. A sense of defiance and a glimmer of something dangerously close to hope.
"Alright then, Shayla." He offered a tentative smile, uncertain but willing to see where this path led. "I guess… let's talk.