I’m an ass. I finished getting the fire together and sat down next to Eladren.

“Every ten years they hold a festival and choose someone to be sent in,” she buried her head into her knees and continued, “Supposedly, to stop whatever is down here from getting out.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” I sighed leaning back on my hands.

“Not the case?”

“Not even a little.”

“Figures,” she replied letting out a soft chuckle.

We sat in silence for a moment. She really hadn’t wanted to be stuck down here. No wonder she had such desperation in her voice when we met. Still, my curiosity wanted to know why her out of everyone in their village. However, the look on her face told me that might be talk for another time.

“Wait a minute,” I said shifting forward, “That’s why elves pop up every decade! I always wondered. I couldn’t really ask before — traps and all that.” My eyes darted away from her. I didn’t feel like reminding Eladren that they were partially my traps at this particular moment. She had enough to process. A tinge of guilt simmered at the bottom of my stomach. Ugh, elf making me feel things. “That’s unfortunate,” I sighed.

She looked to me and put her hands to the ground. “Has no one made it through the first floor?”

“I heard rumors someone did around thirty years ago or so, but I was busy dealing with other things at the time,” I replied, my mind wandering back to the last time I saw The Keeper. Stoking the fire, that painful shudder crawled up my spine again. Its best to shut that out. I felt around my neck to the lock that encircled it.

We’re both victims of circumstance. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to her beyond that stupid key dangling down her chest. My eyes followed the cord it hung off of downwards. Speaking of chest. Nope! Get a hold of yourself. I snapped my head forward. I hadn’t noticed her tunic clinging to her from the water until now. I shouldn’t be thinking about her chest, or how her hair is falling perfectly down her back right now. Besides, she’s covered in bruises. I need to tend to those first.

“Hey, do you happen to have a med kit in that bag of yours?” I said trying to shift focus.

“Uhm, yeah,” she replied reaching for her pack. “I probably look pretty rough, huh?” she continued as she got the kit out.

“You look fine. Hand it over,” I said motioning her to give it to me. Taking out ointment and bandages I began applying them.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said in a nervous tone. I briefly looked up at her face as I worked. Her cheeks were red. A smirk escaped my lips. I wanted more of that.

“I know,” I replied. 

Her skin was soft as I continued wrapping the bandages and tending to her. My hands gently gliding across the exposed parts of her body. Her nervousness was making her squirm. A part of me was enjoying this. My fingers grazed the goosebumps forming on her arms. Cute.

Oh no, there I go again. Get a hold of yourself. 

Thankfully, none of her injuries were severe. It gave me relief to know that good rest would ease most of it, and what remained would only take a day or two of healing depending on how good this ointment was. It had a strong herbal scent to it. It must be a blend of local plants and Animus flowers, a common variety used in brewing health potions and similar items. It was sometimes called a soul flower and there were even some regions who used it in spiritual rituals. Now, that I think about it. Eladren’s eyes weren’t too far off from their color. Fitting but frustrating. Memories of helping out in the apothecary began flooding back to me. This place used to feel like home and not a prison. Its amazing how time takes things away from you. Gods it had been decades since I thought about that.

She must have saw my expression turn. She looked at me and our eyes met. I froze in her gaze. I wanted to swim around in her eyes. They felt like holy water. The sight of them cleansing some small part of me that was caked in aching loneliness and longing. She must be made of Animus flowers.

Clearing my throat, I patted her arm.

“Well, all done. You should be good in a couple of days.”

She looked at her arms and smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Yup,” I replied and went back to tending the fire. Why did I let myself get into this? Hopefully, all of this would be over soon and I could crawl back into the hole I hid away in. All of these feelings keep confusing me. I could so easily just let her die, regardless of that key. The problem is that I don't want to. 

“Uhm, Breaker?” Eladren said, her voice filled with concern as she quickly scooted into me.

“Wha-?” I didn’t finish replying before noticing her bag moving on its own. “Oh, what the fuck?” I leaned into Eladren. Then I morphed my arm into a pole and poked at the bag.

“Grrrahhhh,” a small but strange voice came from her pack.

Eladren got up.

“Wait, where are you going?” I asked. I put my arm out to stop her, but I was too slow. No surivival instincts, I swear.

She carefully opened the pack.