A Villain by Default

The Mist Forest at night is a realm of uneasy stillness. The fog thickens as darkness settles in, smothering any semblance of life with an oppressive hush. Occasionally, a distant howl or the snap of a branch breaks the silence, but it feels more like a warning than a sign of life.

I crouch beside a fire I've managed to coax to life after what felt like an eternity. The flickering flames cast faint shadows over the monstrous bird sprawled before me—a twisted creature with metallic feathers and a grotesque, hooked beak. Its death was swift, courtesy of Seraphine and her water spell that pierced its heart so cleanly it didn't even have time to scream. Now, it lies there, its eerie stillness matching the forest around us.

"I can't believe I was about to suggest we eat this thing," she mutters, nudging it with her boot. Her face is twisted in a mixture of disgust and hunger.

I shrug, pulling out a knife. "Then don't."

"Wait," she says, eyeing me like I've lost my mind. "You're not actually considering—"

I don't bother answering, already slicing into the hide. The metallic sheen of the feathers makes the task harder than it should be, but I keep at it. Hunger isn't a negotiable matter, not here.

"Aren't you a noble?" she scoffs, crossing her arms like that means something.

I glance up briefly. "Being a noble doesn't mean I'm willing to starve."

She stares at me, her expression a mix of disbelief and irritation. "Whatever. I'm going to find something edible," she huffs, spinning on her heel.

"Sure you are," I say, unable to suppress a smirk. "Just don't get lost."

Her back stiffens. "I won't."

She stomps off into the mist, her pride likely the only thing keeping her from admitting she has no idea where she's going. I shake my head and return to the task at hand. She'll be back.

The fire crackles softly, a small beacon of warmth against the biting cold of the night. I've managed to carve enough meat from the creature to make a meal, though I'm under no illusions about how it'll taste.

For a while, it's just me and the silence. It's… almost peaceful.

Then, a rustling in the bushes shatters the quiet. My hand tightens around a pebble as I throw it in the direction of the noise.

"Ow!" A familiar voice yelps, followed by the appearance of Seraphine, rubbing her arm. "What was that for?"

"Thought you were a monster," I reply, deadpan. "What are you doing back here?"

Her cheeks flush, and she glances away. "I just… wanted to see if you actually started a fire," she mutters. "Not because I needed it or anything."

"Of course not," I say, unable to hide the amusement in my voice. "You just decided to… hover nearby like a servant?"

"What? No, I'm not…" She bristles, marching over and plopping down just outside the fire's warmth. Arms crossed, she pointedly avoids looking at me.

I return to cooking, ignoring the faint hum of my Dignity+ trait, which activates whenever someone's attention lingers on me. It's not as overwhelming as usual, but it's enough to set my nerves on edge.

"Find anything to eat?" I ask, breaking the silence.

She scowls, producing a strange, misshapen fruit from her robes. "Just this. Is it even safe?"

I glance at the fruit, then back at her. "You're one of the Academy's best students. Don't tell me you can't identify a basic forest fruit."

Her cheeks flush again, and in a burst of irritation, she throws the fruit at me. I catch it easily, examining it. The faint blue glow of a game-like interface appears in my vision:

Item Name: Mana-Apple

Properties: Edible. Slightly enhances mana output.

I take a bite, watching her reaction out of the corner of my eye. Her expression shifts from surprise to horror.

"You're just eating it?" she stammers.

"It's fine," I reply, smirking slightly as I toss the half-eaten fruit back to her.

She catches it, hesitating before taking a cautious nibble. Hunger wins out over caution, and she quickly devours the rest.

I focus on the task of cooking. It's almost calming, the methodical process of preparing a meal. In another life, I might have even enjoyed this—a skill I picked up more out of necessity than interest.

Seraphine, now full and clearly worn out, sits with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her head dips slightly, her eyelids drooping as exhaustion takes over. Moments later, she's asleep, a faint layer of blue magic forming around her like a protective cocoon.

I watch her for a moment, surprised. In the game, Seraphine was always on edge, constantly prepared for battle. Seeing her like this—vulnerable, human—is… strange.

I finish my meal and lean back against a tree, letting my eyes close. Tomorrow, we'll part ways. That much, I'm sure of.

Morning comes, and the fire has burned down to embers. Seraphine stirs, stretching and rubbing her eyes. She glances around, blinking at the empty space where I'd been.

Beside her, a small cloth-wrapped bundle waits. Inside, she finds a portion of cooked meat. Next to it, an arrow drawn in the dirt points north, accompanied by a note:

North. Caelum is that way. You probably want to go there.

Her fingers tighten around the note, her expression a mix of confusion, gratitude, and something close to irritation.

"Eclipse is… stranger than I thought," she mutters, tucking the note into her bag.

With a sigh, she rises, the bundle of food in hand. Her gaze lingers on the northern path for a moment before she steps forward, ready to continue her journey.