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The bandit turned sharply toward Callum, blade flashing as it plunged into his side.
"Argh!" Callum cried out, the force of the strike knocking him slightly off balance as the steel bit deep.
Seron spun instantly at the sound of his voice, abandoning her fight mid-motion. Her breath caught, panic roaring inside her like a wildfire. She fired a spell toward the bandit’s back, the hit slamming him forward, then sprinted toward Callum, heart hammering as she dropped to her knees beside him.
"God, Callum! Callum!" she gasped, her voice breaking as she cradled him in her arms, hands already glowing with desperate magic. A protective bubble shimmered into existence around them, a thin barrier against the chaos outside, even as her own strength faltered.
His eyes were clenched shut, lips tight with pain. Blood soaked his shirt, warm and terrifying beneath her fingers. She pressed both hands firmly to the wound, magic surging into him, wild and barely controlled.
"Hey, hey, look at me," he managed, his voice rough as he shifted to cover her hand with his own. "Seron, listen—the sword—it was cursed—you can't—"
"No, shut up!" she choked, her voice rising as tears burned her eyes. "Just let it work! Keep your eyes open!"
Callum's trembling fingers gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a tear sliding down her cheek. His smile was far too sweet for someone bleeding out beneath her hands.
"Seron," he whispered, voice soft, almost calm. "It’s not gonna work."
"Just give it a second—it—it has to," she begged, voice cracking as she tried to force more magic into him, ignoring the dark tendrils of the curse lacing the wound.
"You’re too pretty to cry, princess," he whispered with a faint, crooked grin.
"I can’t lose you," she sobbed, shaking her head as she tore at her shirt, ripping it to bind the wound tighter. "Please, I’ll find something—I’ll fix it—"
"I’m sorry," he said softly, regret flickering in his eyes.
"You’re not dying!" she snapped desperately. "Ausra—Ausra can help you!"
"She’s still fighting," he breathed. "She might not be fast enough."
"Don’t say that—"
"You need to know it’s not your fault if she can’t."
"Please, Callum, don’t do this." Her voice was raw now, like it might break entirely.
He smiled weakly again, hand still cradling her face like she was the only thing grounding him. "You’re the kindest, most intelligent, bravest person I’ve ever known."
Her tears mixed with his blood on her shaking hands.
"If she isn’t fast enough, it’s okay." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Dying with you by my side... it’s not so bad."
"Callum—" her voice cracked again.
"You know\... that night we left Argonia," he struggled to keep speaking, forcing the words past shallow breaths, "my father was furious. Said I was getting too close to you all, to the wrong ideas. But what he really couldn’t stand—was how I looked at you."
"What are you—"
"Let me talk," he pleaded gently. "He always wanted me to form some arranged partnership for the kingdom’s sake. But when he saw how I looked at you... he knew I never could." He swallowed hard, his breath faltering. "From the moment I first saw you, Seron... I was doomed. You were perfect. Beautiful, yes—but clever. Fierce. There was never anyone else, not when you existed. It was always you."
"Callum—I—I—"
"I know," he whispered. "It’s okay." His eyes fluttered, starting to close.
Seron shook him gently, her sobs growing more desperate. "No—no, Callum, stay with me—please!"
The battle raged around them. Swords clashed. Spells hissed through the air.
Finally, Kali reached Ara as the bandits’ numbers thinned. "Callum’s down—Seron’s got him under a bubble. You have to get to him now."
Ara’s face hardened. She sprinted toward the glowing dome, slipping inside with practiced speed. The scene inside broke her heart instantly—Seron cradling Callum, sobbing into his blood-soaked shirt.
"Seron," Ara said firmly, kneeling beside her, "you need to listen to me. I need you to let go."
Seron looked up, frantic. "You need to save him. Please, Ara—I need him."
"I will," Ara promised, steady as ever. "But right now, I need you to help the others. I can’t do this if you’re here panicking. They still need you out there."
"I—" Seron’s hands trembled as she clutched Callum tighter.
"Seron." Ara’s voice softened, but carried enough force to ground her. "Go."
Seron’s eyes darted between Ara and Callum, her breath shuddering as she pressed a kiss to his forehead, tears streaming.
"I’ll be back," she whispered against his skin, forcing herself to stand on legs that barely supported her. The bubble shimmered as she stepped out, racing back into the fray, fury and desperation fueling her magic as she struck down any bandit still standing.
Ara exhaled sharply and turned her full focus to the wound. The curse pulsed beneath her hands like living shadows, resisting her magic, twisting deeper every second.
"Come on," she muttered, sweat beading at her brow. "I am not letting you die."
Callum gave the faintest, almost teasing smirk. "That makes one of us."
"Shut up," Ara snapped. "You’re not going anywhere."
Outside, the battle was finally ending. The remaining bandits, seeing their numbers collapse, retreated into the distance.
Seron turned back just as Ara pushed harder, her magic pulsing bright gold, searing through the dark curse. A surge of light burst from her palms as the last thread of the curse unraveled. Callum’s body jolted, breath catching sharply as color crept back into his pale skin.
Seron collapsed beside him, grabbing his hand like a lifeline.
"Callum?" she whispered, eyes wide with hope and terror.
His eyelids fluttered open, lips dry. "...Ow."
Seron let out a strangled laugh, half sob, half relief. "Ow? That’s all you’ve got?"
"Give me a break," he rasped with the smallest of grins. "I was dying a minute ago."
"You’re an idiot," she whispered, voice shaking as fresh tears spilled.
Callum squeezed her hand weakly. "Yeah... but I’m your idiot."
With that, she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly against her chest, unwilling to let him slip away again.