My 'to-do' list for the night had been pretty straightforward: 1. Break evil contract. 2. Check up on Oakhaven. 3. Get a decent night's sleep for once. Nowhere on that list was 'Catch unconscious grumpy prince as he collapses into your arms.' Yet, here we were.
Kaelen was a dead weight and not a small one. He was tall, solid muscle and currently unconscious. His head lolled against my shoulder, his armor digging into my side.
The shared mana pool was humming between us, passing a weird current that let me feel not just his physical exhaustion, but a faint, lingering echo of his cursed energy. It was like having a direct, unsolicited feed of someone else's very bad day.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I muttered, trying to shift his weight. He didn't budge. "Seriously? You can't just poof out of here or something? You're royalty! Don't you have a magical chauffeur service?"
No response, obviously. Just the unsettling weight of him. I sighed, a long, put-upon sound. My inner adventurer, the one who craved freedom and zero complications, was screaming. But the other part of me, the part that had watched a system literally torture him just minutes ago, the part that was now irrevocably bonded to him, felt a grudging, reluctant responsibility.
Plus, the shared mana pool was a total wild card. What if he just… died here, would I feel it? Would it affect me? This was entirely too many questions for a Tuesday night (or whatever day it was).
"Fine, fine," I grumbled, mostly to myself. "But you owe me, big time. And I'm billing your kingdom for manual labor."
Moving him was a nightmare. He was way heavier than he looked, and his armor clanked with every agonizing step. I managed to half-drag, half-carry him further into the denser part of the forest. My scars flared with the exertion, but the weird connection of the shared mana pool somehow made it… different.
My goal was a small, unassuming cave I knew about, hidden deep within these woods. It was nothing fancy, just a hollowed-out rock formation, barely more than a shallow overhang, but it offered shelter and was off the main paths.
It took forever,with every step a battle. His head bumped against my shoulder. I could feel the heat radiating off him, even through his clothes. Up close, without the menacing posture, he just looked… tired. More like a very exhausted, incredibly handsome statue. Not that I was noticing. Obviously.
Finally, we painfully reached the cave. It was a shallow, rocky space, just big enough for two people to lie down in relative comfort, mostly hidden by overgrown vines. I somehow managed to lower him to the cool, damp ground without dropping him entirely. He landed with a soft thud, still completely out.
I collapsed beside him, panting, my own muscles screaming in protest. My scars were practically glowing with the effort. The 'Shared Mana Pool' feature might have been online, but it wasn't making me a superhero. It just made me feel his exhaustion like a bad hangover on top of my own.
I took a moment, just breathing, letting my eyes adjust to the gloom of the cave. The air was cool and smelled of earth and old stone. Outside, the sounds of the night forest had returned – crickets, rustling leaves, the occasional distant hoot of an owl. A stark contrast to the chaos we'd just survived.
Then, the practicalities kicked in. He was still in his armor, and he looked freezing, despite the physical exertion. And he needed to… recover.
I reached out, hesitantly, and touched his face. His skin was cool, clammy. No fever, which was good. But his mana felt incredibly low. His curse had stabilized, yes, but it had drained him dry. The 'Shared Mana Pool' meant I could feel that raw depletion, an empty cavern where his powerful magic should have been.
This was uncharted territory. My curse-breaking skills were usually about dismantling. Breaking chains, severing connections, re-routing magical flow. But this was… different. This was about mending a body, soothing a system that was currently in freefall.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the shared mana pool. It felt like a subtle, intricate web woven between our very souls. I could sense his magical core, dulled and starved. And I could sense my own, robust and humming with its own chaotic energy. The shared pool was a conduit. It wasn't just my magic, or his. It was ours, now.
This was dangerous. Playing with a cursed, unconscious prince's magic, especially through a volatile new system, felt like a terrible idea. But the alternative… letting him lie there, potentially never waking up from mana exhaustion? A strong dose of 'he's my problem now' pragmatism) kicked in.
I took a deep breath, and then, slowly, carefully, I reached into the shared mana pool. It was like dipping my hand into a shimmering, warm river. I channeled my own curse-breaking ability, not to shatter his curse, but to gently coax his own depleted mana core back into activity.
Think of it less like breaking a wall, and more like untangling a really knotted thread. Guiding his own energy, which was scattered and chaotic, back into its proper channels. It was delicate work, utterly draining in a way combat never was. It felt intensely intimate.
My glowing scars pulsed, not with pain, but with a strange, resonant hum. My magic was flowing, not into him, but through the shared pool, stimulating his own dormant mana, encouraging it to wake up. It was like giving a dying ember a gentle breath of air, coaxing it back to life with the lingering remnants of its own flame.
As I worked, my fingers lightly traced the contours of his armored chest, sometimes brushing against the hardened leather of his gloves. His face was still, unlined by the usual frown. He looked… peaceful, vulnerable and annoyingly handsome.
His usually well kept dark hair was falling across his forehead. I could feel the steady beat of his heart through the bond, a slow, strong rhythm. This close, without the arguments and the threats, it was easy to forget he was the prince who'd been hunting me. He was just… a person, unconscious and in need of help. A very, very inconvenient person.
The process took time. Minutes turned into an eternity. My own mana reserves, though strong, felt the strain. The shared pool was efficient, but it wasn't a magic tap. I focused, pushing past my growing fatigue, channeling the raw energy of my curse-breaking ability not to shatter, but to soothe, to guide.
Finally, after what felt like an hour, I felt a subtle shift. His mana core, once a faint ember, was now a small, steady flame. Not roaring back to full power, but enough to sustain him, to begin the long climb back to recovery. I pulled back, my own body slumping with exhaustion. My scars, now dull, felt heavy, but the throbbing was gone.
I carefully leaned back against the cave wall, my arm still awkwardly wrapped around Kaelen's shoulder from where I'd been bracing him. My head felt light, my vision swimming. I was spent.
Just as my eyes were about to close, I felt a subtle tremor in his body. Then I heard a soft groan.
His eyes flickered open.
Not the glowing red of his curse, not the weary gray of exhaustion. But his true eyes. Dark, stormy gray, still thick with sleep and confusion. He blinked once, twice, slowly taking in the dimness of the cave. His gaze drifted, confused, then landed directly on me.
Our faces were inches apart. My arm was still around him. Our bodies were pressed together. My heart, which had just recovered from the 'Echoes' and the adrenaline of dragging him, suddenly did a frantic little flutter.
His expression shifted. Confusion, then recognition. Then, as he registered our closeness, his body tensed. His eyes widened. His gaze held mine, a silent question passing between us, a spark that felt undeniably… charged.
We were impossibly close. And for a fleeting, terrifying moment, the air thickened with an entirely new kind of magic, one that had nothing to do with curses or systems, and everything to do with two very different people, tangled together in the dark.