13. Mordakus

13

MORDAKUS

T he narrow path along the cliffside makes my teeth clench. One wrong step, and it's a long way down. I lead the way, my demon senses on high alert for any sign of instability in the rock face.

"Watch your footing," I call back to Eve. "Step exactly where I step."

She nods, her face a mask of concentration. Vincent mews pitifully from his makeshift harness on my belt, clearly not enjoying the journey.

"Shh, little creature," I mutter, surprising myself with the gentleness in my voice. "We'll be on solid ground soon enough."

As we navigate the treacherous terrain, my experience kicks in. I find myself automatically assessing risks, planning contingencies, always three steps ahead.

"Eve," I say, pausing at a particularly narrow stretch. "See how the rock changes color here? That means it's less stable. We'll need to move quickly but carefully. You ready?"

She takes a deep breath, then nods. "I'm ready. Let's do this."

I feel a surge of pride as she follows my lead, moving with a grace and confidence that wasn't there when we started this journey. She's come a long way from the scared girl I found in that hidden compound.

We make it past the dangerous section, finding a small ledge wide enough to rest on. As Eve catches her breath, I unclip Vincent from my belt, handing him over.

"You did good back there," I say, surprising myself with the compliment.

Eve beams, her smile lighting up her whole face. "I had a good teacher," she replies, and I feel an unfamiliar warmth in my chest.

As we continue our descent, I find myself sharing more of my knowledge with Eve. Not just basic survival skills, but the finer points of strategy and situational awareness.

"Always have multiple escape routes," I explain as we pick our way down a slope. "And never forget to look up. Threats don't just come from ground level."

Eve listens intently, asking insightful questions that make me see her more and more as an equal partner in this journey.

We reach the bottom of the cliff just as the sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the landscape. In the fading light, I spot something that makes me pause.

"Look," I say, pointing to a structure half-buried in the hillside. "Looks like an old defense outpost. Might be a good place to spend the night."

As we approach, I can't shake a sense of familiarity. The design, the placement... Reminds me of some of the outposts back home. In the realm I come from.

"Mordakus?" Eve's voice breaks into my thoughts. "Are you okay?"

I realize I've stopped walking, lost in memories. "Yeah," I grunt. "Just... remembering."

Eve's hand on my arm startles me. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asks gently.

For a moment, I'm tempted to brush her off, to retreat behind my usual gruff exterior. But something in her eyes, the genuine care I see there, makes me reconsider.

"It was torture," I say quietly.

"You're proof that we can choose our own path, demon or human."

Her words hit me hard, cracking something open inside me that I've kept locked away for years. To my horror, I feel emotion swelling.

Eve pretends not to notice. She busies herself setting up our camp for the night, giving me space to compose myself.

As we settle in, sharing a meager meal of dried rations and some edible plants Eve gathered earlier, I find myself opening up more. Sharing stories of my life before, my hopes for the future. It's terrifying and liberating all at once.

"Do you really think we'll find peace at the golden coast?" I ask, voicing a doubt I've been carrying.

Eve considers this, absently stroking Vincent's fur. "I don't know," she admits. "But I think... I think the journey itself is changing us. Maybe that's the real purpose."

Her insight strikes me. She's right, of course. This journey has already transformed us both in ways I never expected.

As the night wears on, I find myself reluctant to sleep, not wanting this moment of connection to end. But dangers still lurk, and one of us needs to stay alert.

"Get some rest," I tell Eve. "I'll take my first watch."

She nods, curling up with Vincent on one of the old cots. But before she closes her eyes, she reaches out, squeezing my hand.

"Thank you," she says softly. "For sharing with me. For trusting me."

I grunt, uncomfortable with the emotion but not pulling away. "Sleep well, Eve."

As I keep watch through the night, my thoughts wander to the future. For the first time in years, I allow myself to imagine a life beyond mere survival. A home, perhaps. Peace. And Eve... Eve by my side.

The realization should terrify me. Attachment is dangerous, a liability in this harsh world… but as I look at her sleeping form, I can't bring myself to regret anything.

When dawn breaks, we pack up and continue our journey. As we step out of the bunker, I'm struck by the beauty of the sunrise painting the sky in brilliant hues.

"Look at that," Eve breathes, her face alight with wonder.

For once, I don't rush us onward. Instead, I stand beside her, allowing myself to simply appreciate the moment.

"It's beautiful," I agree, surprising myself.

Eve looks at me, a soft smile on her face. "You're changing, you know," she says. "In a good way."

I grunt, embarrassed but not denying it. "Yeah, well... don't get used to it. I've still got a reputation to maintain."

She laughs, the sound bright and clear in the morning air. "Of course. Wouldn't want anyone thinking you've gone soft."

As we set off, I find myself walking closer to Eve than usual, our shoulders occasionally brushing. Vincent, back in his harness on my belt, purrs contentedly.