Other than Valarie's lingering resentment towards the goddess, she still taught them the basics of rune magic. In fact, she had given them a demonstration, making them inscribe a rune using the name of their attribute. Evangeline's rune was Light—which she activated too carelessly, nearly causing a disaster before Valarie quickly dispelled it. Sylvia inscribed Lunar, and hers too flared brightly before it was extinguished for safety. The others all tried their hands at their own runes. It was only the very basics—Valarie taught them how to write their attribute name in rune script, then left them with what she called homework. If you could even call where they were a "home"... It was an underground, floating pile of wreckage drifting above monster-infested waters. Their shelter groaned with every current, rusting metal and broken slabs of old buildings bound together into a makeshift fortress. When they'd first found Valarie's prison, she had asked them to retrieve a few books. Most of their bags had been washed away when they fell into the cursed green waters—but luckily Damon had saved the books, storing them in his shadow storage. Lucky. Those were the only things that made it. Along with anything in his bag. Their homework: memorize the 26 basic rune letters, and learn how to combine them into words. Damon sighed, steam rising from his lips. It was freezing. Everyone was exhausted. But he had managed to find a way to combat the cold. Simple, really. He crushed some weak-looking rocks into a fine powder, then gathered metals from nearby scrap. Using Ashborn, he superheated them—until even ancient, corrosion-resistant alloys glowed as though on the verge of melting. His hands were still trembling from the backlash of channeling the flames. But he didn't complain. Once the metal was blistering hot, he poured the powdered rocks—damp sand and dust, as he called them—over the surface, causing them to hiss and sizzle violently. Then he piled monster hide over the top, letting the thick leather trap the heat. Finally, he threw a thick blanket, scavenged from the Beldam's nest, over the entire construct. Heat. Warmth. In this cursed dampness, it felt like a miracle. He let Sylvia and the other girls use it, knowing they'd need it more than he did. Meanwhile, he walked to the edge of the wreckage, sitting quietly in the shadow of a collapsed pillar, opening a book on rune theory. Xander, of course, knew better than to ask Damon to help him set up a place to sleep—but Damon had still left him a corner. It wasn't warm, but it was enough to stave off the cold. Leona didn't seem thrilled about Damon keeping his distance. But he reminded them—someone needed to stay up to keep watch. Which, naturally, spiraled into an argument with Evangeline. Eventually, a compromise was reached: two people would remain awake at a time, rotating every few hours. Damon didn't mind. That's why he found himself sitting beside Sylvia now, staring into the inky dark, monster-infested waters. She had insisted on going first. And anyone who saw the determined look on her face knew she wouldn't take no for an answer. Even Leona, who clearly wanted the night watch with Damon, had to give up. Damon flipped the page of his book with a sharp flick of his finger, eyes narrowed in concentration. Or at least he pretended to be focused. Sylvia was plastered to him. Not merely sitting close—her entire body leaned into his. There was so little space between them, even his breath felt constricted. 'This girl…' His expression was stoic. His mind was anything but. He'd already read the same page seven times. He memorized the damn book. But Sylvia was making that impossible. Each moment she inched closer. Each second, her warmth pressed tighter against him. 'She's doing this on purpose.' He knew it. And being Damon… he reacted in the only way he knew how. "What are you doing ?" There was silence. Sylvia's voice broke the silence, her soft breath brushing against his neck. The faint nightlight spell she had cast gave her night vision. "Studying.." She had removed most of the metal plates from her armor, her thin undershirt clinging to her in the damp air. 'What is wrong with me…' Damon thought. She smiled sweetly, lifting her head to look at him. "I'm studying rune magic, like Valarie told us to." Damon exhaled sharply, closing his eyes. "You know damn well that's not what I'm talking about." She shifted slightly. Whether it was her clothes rustling or his thoughts unraveling, he couldn't tell. Her body was too close. "Then what are you talking about?" she asked innocently. "Did something happen?" Damon said nothing. He glanced away. Even in this dim light, she could see the tension in his jaw. The old him would've blurted it out. 'Your breasts are poking me.' Without hesitation. Without shame. But… "It's fine," he muttered. Sylvia smiled, closing the book in her lap. She didn't stop there. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head on his chest. Damon's breath hitched. Her fingers gently curled into his shirt, her face tilted up just enough for him to see the curve of her lips. That smile… 'Where… have I seen that smile before?' Then it hit him. Lilith Astranova. That devious smile. The kind that promised mischief. The kind that said she was plotting something—and would stop at nothing to get it. 'Why the hell am I thinking of her now? And why is Sylvia smiling like that?' This wasn't like her. Sylvia wasn't bold. She wasn't seductive. At least, not before. 'Is she… being controlled?' Damon subtly activated his shadow perception. He scanned her arms, her body, their surroundings—for any trace of manipulation. He found none. "Hey…" Her voice was soft again. Damon lowered his head to meet her eyes. "Yeah, what?" Her arms trembled slightly—he couldn't tell if it was from the cold, or… "Do you remember…" she started. Damon looked at her. "Remember what?" She pressed tighter against his chest. The warmth from her body spread through him, dulling the chill. "When we first got lost… there was something I wanted to tell you. You said… I could tell you whenever I was ready." Damon gave a slight nod. He remembered. Barely. It felt like another lifetime ago. "Hmm. I haven't forgotten." Sylvia lifted her head, placing a hand on his cheek. Her face… so close. He could feel her breath, the warmth of her chest against his arm. Her heart was racing. "Damon…" she whispered. "Hmm?" he replied, unsure what else to say. Her eyes locked onto his. Her voice barely audible. "What… what do you think of me?"