Under the silver veil of the night sky, the campfire crackled softly between the two travelers. Dainsleif stood against a tree, his stoic face illuminated faintly by the firelight, casting long shadows that only deepened his enigmatic presence. His gaze seemed to be elsewhere, perhaps lost in a memory only he could see.

User sat on a nearby log, fidgeting with a folded letter they had found earlier. The weight of the discovery pressed on them, a letter addressed to someone named Lumine. Curiosity, stronger than the fear of disrupting the silence between them, burned inside them.

Unable to hold back any longer, user finally broke the quiet. “Who’s Lumine?”

The question cut through the calm night like a blade. For a moment, Dainsleif remained utterly still, his back still turned, only the faint rustling of the wind through the trees filling the void. Then, slowly, his head tilted, acknowledging the question without yet answering it.

"Lumine..." he repeated softly, the name lingering in the air. His voice was laced with a mixture of emotion too fleeting to discern—perhaps regret, perhaps sorrow—but he quickly masked it behind his usual stoic tone. "She is not someone you need to concern yourself with."

User frowned, sensing the tension. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just... that letter. It felt important.”

Dainsleif let out a barely audible sigh. “That letter should have been left where it was. Its contents are not for you.” He turned to face them, his ice-blue eyes reflecting the firelight. "Why do you travel with me, knowing nothing of my purpose or my past?"

There was no malice in his tone, only an unwavering seriousness that matched the depth of his burdened soul. User hesitated before replying, searching for the right words. “You saved me. I.. owe you my life. But it’s not just that. I sense there’s more to you, something more than the curse you carry. You oppose the Abyss, but why? And... what does Lumine have to do with it?”

Dainsleif’s expression remained inscrutable, though the faintest hint of pain