Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 80: Mariel Melodies

After the meat had been cut and served in uneven chunks, passed around in hollowed leaves or small iron bowls borrowed from Borik’s pack, the group finally began to settle. There was something comforting about a full belly and the gentle sound of firewood cracking. The night had grown heavier now, thick with the scent of smoke, roasted meat, and the earthy dampness of the forest floor.

The cold crept in slowly. Unlike the searing heat of the day, this chill was sneaky — it wrapped around ankles first, then moved up through sleeves and collars, making a few of them shiver despite the flickering fire.

Mariel was the first to break the silence.

She reached into her satchel, the soft leather rustling under her fingers, and pulled out a small harp — no larger than a loaf of bread, with delicate silver strings and a polished wooden frame that curved like a crescent moon. Tiny colored beads dangled from its base, catching the light as she held it in her lap. She looked at Liam for a moment, as if asking permission to disturb the stillness of the night.

He gave her a small nod.

Then, without a word, she positioned it gently against her thigh and began to play.

It was a gentle tune — haunting at first, like a distant lullaby heard through trees. Then, slowly, her voice joined in. Soft. Low. Melodic. She sang in a language none of them recognized, but it didn’t matter. The words floated over the fire like smoke, wrapping around them and sinking into their bones.

The group grew still.

Jason lowered his bowl mid-bite, chewing slower than usual. Sophia stared at the fire, but her gaze softened. Even Eleanor leaned back slightly, her arms crossed but her attention fully drawn to the music.

Liam sat close to the fire, the glow painting his features gold and orange, his eyes fixed on Mariel. There was something about her in that moment — not just her voice, but the way her fingers moved gently across the harp strings, the way the beads swayed with each subtle motion, catching the firelight. Her dark eyes sparkled with warmth, and her long hair was loose now, falling over one shoulder.

He found himself smiling.

"Beautiful," Marcus murmured under his breath, his voice barely above the crackle of fire. "The girl’s got a very beautiful voice."

Jason grinned. "If I wasn’t full, I might’ve fallen in love."

"You fall in love with anyone who can cook or carry a tune," Eleanor muttered dryly.

"And what about you, coldheart?" Marcus asked, nudging her with his elbow. "No feelings stirring in there?"

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "I’m listening, aren’t I?"

Meanwhile, the forest seemed to be holding its breath. Even the crickets and distant howls had gone quiet, as if nature itself was leaning in to listen. The only sound beyond her singing was the wind brushing gently through the treetops, causing leaves to whisper to one another.

Liam glanced around.

Von stood at his usual post, silent, still, near the largest of the trees. His club rested beside him, one hand gripping the hilt of his long blade. Gorr was a few feet away, arms folded, eyes sweeping the tree line like a wolf on edge. And Threk—barely visible—had climbed partway up a tree trunk, perched like a bird in the shadows, his head slowly turning from side to side.

All three stood alert. Unmoving. But even they had gone quiet during the song.

Then the melody ended, soft and slow, like a lullaby drifting off with the last of the embers.

The group didn’t applaud. They didn’t need to. The silence after the song was enough of a testament.

Mariel lowered the harp, exhaled slowly, and tucked it away again. She didn’t say a word, just smiled, her cheeks pink from the cold and the faint embarrassment of being the center of attention.

Sophia gave a small, polite smile and returned her gaze to the fire.

Mariel noticed, but said nothing. Instead, she pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and leaned a little closer to the flames, letting the warmth kiss her face.

Borik, had already passed out beside a pile of roots, half-covered in his blanket. His tiny snores rose and fell like someone blowing air through a pipe.

Liam stretched, leaned back on his hands, and looked up at the dark forest canopy.

"Ain’t a bad way to end the day," he said quietly.

"No," said Jason. "Not bad at all."

Morning came slowly in the forest. The sky overhead was still mostly covered by the thick canopy, but soft rays of sunlight broke through the gaps, scattering golden streaks across the leaf-covered ground. Birds chirped in lazy rhythms, insects buzzed near the low shrubs, and the campfire from the night before was now just smoldering embers surrounded by ash.

Liam was the first of the group to stir, sitting up with a groan and rubbing the back of his neck. The makeshift bedding of leaves and moss hadn’t done much to ease the stiffness in his spine.

"Morning," he muttered to no one in particular.

A few others began to rise. Jason rolled out from beneath a thick patch of vines, hair sticking out wildly in different directions. "Tell me we’re close to some real beds," he grumbled, scratching at his beard stubble.

Mariel stretched her arms with a yawn, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "That wasn’t so bad," she said, even as she shook a few dried leaves out of her hair. "Though I wouldn’t say no to a proper wash."

Sophia, meanwhile, stood and let out an audible groan as she sniffed her sleeve. "Ugh, Saints above..." she muttered, frowning deeply. "This balm reeks even worse in the morning. Like dead skunk soaked in vinegar."

Sera nodded in agreement. "It’s awful. It’s like the smell got stronger overnight."

"I think it did," Mariel said, lifting her arm and cringing. "I swear, it’s gotten into my clothes. It’s not coming out until I burn them."

Sophia wrinkled her nose and looked around, then turned to Von, who was crouched near a rock, chewing something from his satchel while watching the treeline.

"Von," she called out. "Is there a river nearby? A stream? Anything we can use to clean up?"

Von didn’t answer right away. He glanced over his shoulder briefly, chewing in slow silence, then turned back to the trees.

Sophia frowned. "Did you hear me?"

He stood up, brushed his hands clean against his trousers, and muttered under his breath, "This isn’t a stroll through the city gardens. If they wanted perfume and warm baths, they shouldn’t have come into a cursed jungle."

The words weren’t meant to carry, but they did.

Eleanor, who had just finished tightening her boots, turned sharply to look at him. Her gray eyes narrowed.

"What was that?" she asked, voice calm but with an edge sharper than any blade.

Von didn’t flinch. He kept his eyes on the trees. "Nothing," he said.

"Oh, it wasn’t nothing," Eleanor replied, rising to her feet. "You said women shouldn’t be in this jungle."

Mariel and Sophia both turned toward Von now, lips pursed, expressions unreadable.

Von remained quiet, his back still turned.

"You got something to say, say it out loud," Eleanor continued, stepping closer. "Because last I checked, the women in this group have spilled just as much blood as the men. Maybe more."

Jason raised his brows, glancing at Liam with an awkward shrug, while Marcus rubbed at his temples. "Here we go..."

Von finally turned, his face unreadable beneath the scruff of his beard and the shadow of his hood. "I said what I said," he muttered. "Don’t like it? That’s not my concern. I’m here to guide you through this forest, not hold your hand or explain my views."

Sophia folded her arms. "If you’re guiding us, then speak to all of us with respect. That includes the ones you think should be waiting by some hearth, baking bread."

"I don’t eat bread," Von replied flatly. "And I don’t give trust easy. You want it? Earn it."

Liam stepped in between them now, voice steady. "That’s enough. We’re not out here to argue. We all stink, we’re all tired, and this forest doesn’t care what’s between your legs. It’ll kill you just the same."

Von grunted, but said no more. He turned back toward the trees and gestured forward.

"Let’s move."

Mariel looked over at Sophia, who was still fuming slightly, and placed a gentle hand on her arm. "It’s fine," she whispered. "We’ve handled worse." 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"Doesn’t mean we should stay quiet," Sophia replied. "But thanks."