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Part 37: The Shield On His Back, The Fire In His Heart

Thorn leaned forward from his dark throne, his black wings folded neatly behind him as his eyes narrowed.

The room pulsed with faint shadowy energy as he watched Arson tremble-watched the curse mark twitch and falter under Sylvia's embrace.

"...Tch. He's resisting?" Thorn muttered with mild annoyance, tapping his finger on the armrest. "How disappointing."

_ _ _

Arson's flames burned wildly around him, not aimed, not directed-just raw, uncontrolled surges of emotion. His arms shook as Sylvia clung to him, her blood dripping down his chest, her breath faint but stubbornly alive.

"I... told you..." she whispered, her voice barely audible beneath the roar of his power, "I'll always be... your balance..."

His heart pounded.

The memories hit him again.

Sylvia saying she was meant to restore his destruction.

He couldn't bear it.

His knees hit the ground hard as he collapsed, holding her.

The curse mark flared again-its final retaliation.

"I SAID OBEY!" Thorn's voice boomed magically in Arson's mind, echoing with oppressive dominance. His wings spread wide from the throne room, magic surging down toward Arson to tighten control again.

Arson screamed.

"YOU... DON'T... OWN ME!!!"

In that moment, he exploded in a burst of magma flames so wild the very castle trembled. The curse mark crackled-splintering. Thorn's magic recoiled slightly.

Sylvia coughed blood but managed a shaky smile. "That's... the Arson I know..."

Thorn stood now, face serious. "So. You'd throw away control, alliance, and power... for some bleeding weed girl?"

Arson, flames flickering around him, lifted Sylvia protectively into his arms. His body still trembled from the inner war, his breathing heavy, but his eyes... they were his again.

Arson, flames flickering softly like a heartbeat around him, held Sylvia tighter-her blood staining his arms, her breath weak against his chest. His hands trembled as he looked down at her bruised, broken form.

"...Sylvia..." he murmured, voice raw with guilt. "I... I didn't mean to do any of it. Not like that. Not with that cursed power..." His jaw clenched. "If I lose you now-after hurting you like that-I won't ever be able to forgive myself. That's not how I fight. That's not how I... conquer."

His voice cracked at the edges, the weight of everything threatening to pull him under again.

But Sylvia, even through the haze of pain, smiled up at him-soft and unwavering. "You still left me alive, didn't you?" she whispered.

Her arms were too weak, so instead, her vines moved gently, wrapping around him-not to bind, but to hold, to reassure.

"I'll be your shield. Even if every tribe turns against you, even if the world calls you a monster, I won't. I'm not leaving you, Arson. That's my duty. That's my choice."

Arson's throat tightened.

Hope, fragile yet radiant, sparked in his heart.

He looked at her with eyes that had burned cities-now filled with something else entirely. Something vulnerable. "Sylvia... I don't want to lose you. Not this time. I won't let go. No matter what comes."

Sylvia rested her head weakly against his shoulder. "Then stand. Not just for war... but for yourself."

Thorn himself descended from his throne, eyes sharp and cold.

"Touching," he mocked. "But love doesn't win wars. Order does."

Arson slowly stood, still holding Sylvia protectively. His flames, once wild and unstable, now burned with terrifying control-steady, purposeful.

"No," Arson said quietly. "Balance wins wars. And now... I'm not fighting alone."

He gently placed Sylvia down against the wall, behind a shield of flame and vine. Then turned toward Thorn.

This time, it wasn't just pride burning in him.

It was purpose.

And the battle to reclaim everything truly began.

_ _ _

Arson narrowed his eyes at Thorn, the flames around him pulsing with a focused intensity. Without another word, he charged, his body surging forward like a meteor. The ground beneath him cracked and scorched with every step as he launched himself at Thorn with such ferocity that the shockwave from his movement shattered the marble floor.

His fist, blazing and condensed with magma-like energy, connected squarely with Thorn's chest-an explosive blow that sent him staggering back, his wings fluttering with imbalance. The impact rang through the throne room like thunder.

Thorn's eyes widened slightly, surprised-not just by the power, but by the clarity behind it.

"Hmph," Thorn muttered. "So the beast has a heart. Let's tear it out."

With a sweep of his wings, he unleashed a volley of shadowy, slicing attacks, twisting through the air like cursed scythes. Arson dodged the first few, but the rest cut across his arms and legs-one slashed deep across his ribs. But he didn't stop.

Bleeding, breathing heavily, he still charged, growling through gritted teeth. Thorn sneered and activated his control technique-dark sigils appearing around Arson's limbs like cursed manacles. His movements slowed, each step feeling like wading through tar.

Still-he didn't stop.

Even under pressure, Arson hurled himself forward again. Thorn waited, wings drawn back-and with a powerful strike, slammed Arson with dark energy, sending him crashing across the room and slamming into the stone near Sylvia, cracks spiderwebbing out around the cratered impact.

He groaned, body trembling, flames flickering weakly.

Sylvia, barely conscious but watching everything, looked up at him. Her voice was soft but firm:
"Arson... put me on your back."

He turned his head slightly, stunned. "What?"

"Just do it," she said, her words shaking. "Even if I'm not really in a living state, I can still help. I'll guide your movements-tell you where to dodge... and maybe... protect you with my vines."

Arson hesitated, seeing the bruises, the blood, her pale lips.

But then, quietly, he nodded.

Gently, almost reverently, he helped her climb onto his back. She was light-far too light-but the moment she wrapped her weak arms around his neck, and used her vines to anchor herself to him, he felt something stir.

A strange calm. A warmth in the midst of chaos.

She wrapped her legs around his waist to stay secure. A vine from her arm wrapped over his chest, binding them together.

Arson breathed deeply.

"If I hadn't been manipulated... you wouldn't be in this state," he said, his voice trembling with shame.

Sylvia laid her head lightly against his back and whispered, "Doesn't matter now. I'm still here... We're still here."

Her grip tightened-just slightly. And Arson's flames roared back to life, brighter, steadier, fueled not just by destruction...

...but by trust.

Together, they turned to face Thorn again.

This time, they were a single force.

And Thorn... felt it.