Elena's POV
The cabin was quiet, save for the rhythmic scrape of Caleb sharpening his blade. Each stroke sent sparks of tension through the air, a constant reminder of the danger looming over them. Elena sat at the small dining table, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the wood as she replayed the events at the obelisk in her mind.
The glowing runes. The voice. The cryptic warning.
The key unlocks the path. Beware the shadows that seek to claim it.
"What do you think it means?" she asked finally, breaking the silence.
Caleb paused, the blade glinting in the dim light as he looked at her. "I think it means we need to be prepared for whatever's coming."
"That's not an answer," she said, frustration creeping into her voice.
He sighed, setting the blade down. "I don't have all the answers, Elena. But I know one thing—Darian won't stop until he gets what he wants. And if the obelisk is connected to you, then that makes you his target."
Elena's stomach churned at the thought. She pushed herself up from the table, pacing the room. "I don't want to just sit here and wait for him to come for me. There has to be something we can do."
"We will do something," Caleb said, his tone firm. "We'll train. You need to be able to defend yourself, Elena. You've already seen what the rogues are capable of."
---
The next morning, Caleb led her to a clearing not far from the cabin. The sun hung low in the sky, its rays cutting through the mist that clung to the forest floor.
"This is where I trained when I was younger," he said, gesturing to the open space. "It's secluded and safe. For now."
Elena nodded, pulling her jacket tighter against the crisp air. "What exactly are you going to teach me?"
"First, how to hold your ground," Caleb said, tossing her a wooden staff. "And how to fight back if you're attacked."
She caught the staff awkwardly, the weight of it throwing her off balance. Caleb chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"Don't worry. You'll get the hang of it," he said, stepping closer. "Now, plant your feet like this."
He demonstrated, his movements fluid and confident. Elena mimicked him, adjusting her stance until he nodded in approval.
"Good," he said. "Now, grip the staff firmly, but not too tight. You need to be able to move it quickly."
Elena followed his instructions, and within minutes, they were sparring. Caleb moved slowly at first, guiding her through the motions and correcting her form. But as the session went on, he began to pick up the pace, forcing her to think and react faster.
"Focus on my movements," he said, circling her. "Anticipate where I'm going to strike."
Elena's heart pounded as she blocked his attacks, her muscles straining with the effort. She stumbled more than once, but Caleb was patient, offering her tips and encouragement.
"You're getting better," he said after an hour. "But you need to trust yourself more. Stop second-guessing your instincts."
She nodded, wiping sweat from her brow. Despite the physical exhaustion, she felt a spark of pride. She was learning.
---
By the time they returned to the cabin, the sun was high in the sky, and Elena's body ached in ways she hadn't known were possible. She collapsed onto the couch, groaning.
"Is this what you do every day?" she asked, shooting Caleb a tired glare.
He smirked, handing her a glass of water. "Pretty much. You'll get used to it."
Elena took a sip, eyeing him over the rim. "What about you? You didn't seem tired at all."
"I've had years of practice," he said, leaning against the wall. "You'll catch up."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Despite the pain and exhaustion, she felt... stronger.
---
Caleb's POV
Later that evening, Caleb stood outside the cabin, staring into the dark forest. The rogues' scent had faded, but he knew better than to let his guard down. Darian was out there, watching and waiting for the right moment to strike.
He clenched his fists, the memory of the rogue's taunts still fresh in his mind.
You can't protect her forever.
But he would try. No matter the cost.
He heard the cabin door creak open and turned to see Elena stepping out, a blanket draped over her shoulders. She looked small and fragile in the moonlight, but there was a fire in her eyes that reminded him why he was fighting so hard to keep her safe.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked.
She shook her head, joining him by the porch railing. "Too much on my mind."
He nodded, understanding all too well.
"Do you ever wish things were different?" she asked after a moment.
"All the time," he admitted. "But wishing doesn't change anything. We have to play the hand we're dealt."
Elena sighed, her breath visible in the cool night air. "I just... I feel like I'm caught in something so much bigger than me. Like I'm a piece on a chessboard, and I don't even know the rules of the game."
Caleb turned to her, his expression softening. "You're not a pawn, Elena. You're stronger than you think. And you're not alone in this. I'm with you. Always."
She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion. For a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift, leaving only the two of them standing under the stars.
---
As the night wore on, they remained on the porch, talking quietly about anything and everything. It was a rare moment of peace, and Caleb found himself wishing it could last forever.
But deep down, he knew better. The shadows were closing in, and the fight was far from over.