I rip myself from the tent, my legs barely holding me upright as rage and violation course through my veins like poison. The wooden staff finds my hand on my way out, an extension of my fury as I stumble into the moonlight. "HOW COULD YOU?!" The scream tears from my throat, raw and primal. "You made me say I loved you! You made me betray her!" Mirelle's confused face appears at the tent flap, her eyes wide with something between shock and fear. "Sam, wait…" I don't wait. I can't. The energy surges through me, down my arms, and into the staff. A ball of orange flame erupts from its tip, streaking through the night air toward the canvas shelter. The fireball hits with a satisfying whoosh, igniting the fabric instantly. A second follows before Mirelle can even react, then a third. "Sam, stop!" she shrieks, scrambling backward as flames devour the tent, crawling up the sides with hungry orange tongues. I don't stop. I can't. Each fireball feels like justice, like cleansing. Let her burn. Let this whole cursed world burn. "You made me say I loved you!" I'm screaming so hard my throat feels like it's tearing. "Only Kayla! Only her!" Mirelle gets tangled in the burning canvas, her screams piercing the night as flames catch on her hair. The ends of her electric blue strands ignite. "Wait! No! Please!" she begs, desperately fighting to free herself from the collapsing tent. Something inside me roars for more justice. I blast her again, a fresh fireball hitting her square in the chest. "I'm sorry! Sam, I'm sorry!" she wails, finally breaking free of the tent and dropping to the ground. She rolls frantically in the dirt, her body a writhing torch against the dark earth. Her screams don't sound human anymore—they're primal, animal, the sounds of pure agony. I stand there, staff still raised, watching her burn. The scent of charred hair and searing flesh hits me, acrid and sickening. My stomach turns violently. The rage that fueled me moments ago begins to dissolve, replaced by a creeping horror. I just set another person on fire. I'm watching her burn alive. Despite everything she did, despite my anger, this isn't me. I'm not a murderer. "Fuck," I mutter, dropping the staff and rushing toward her rolling form. I tear off my cloak and start beating the leftover flames, slapping frantically at her burning skin and hair. "Hold still! Let me help you!" The flames die under my desperate smothering, but the damage is done. Mirelle lies before me, her naked body a patchwork of angry red burns and blackened skin. The sight of her injuries makes bile rise in my throat, raw, weeping flesh where my rage has literally melted parts of her. Her chest heaves with rapid, shallow breaths, each one sounding more painful than the last. "I'm sorry," she gasps, her wide eyes locked on mine. Even now, even after what I've done to her, she's apologizing to me. Something breaks inside my chest. Tears flood my eyes as the full weight of what's happened crashes down on me. This monster who violated me is the only person in this entire world trying to help me. And I've become a monster myself by doing this to her. "Shut up," I choke out, my voice cracking. "Just... shut up." I'm so goddamn angry at her, at myself, at this whole fucked-up situation. I want to scream until my lungs give out, but there's no time for that now. She needs help, or she's going to die, and despite everything, I don't want her blood on my hands. My mind races frantically until I remember, the level up notification after she first raped me back at the castle. There was something about a healing spell. Saint class. "Stay still," I tell her, though she's hardly in any condition to move. I close my eyes, desperately trying to focus through the chaos of emotions raging inside me. What does healing even feel like? I try to imagine light, warmth, cells knitting back together, anything that might channel whatever power this bizarre world has given me. When I open my eyes, I'm stunned to see my hands glowing with soft golden light, pulsing gently like a heartbeat. Without hesitation, I press my palms against the worst of her burns. The moment we make contact, I feel the curse activate, my body freezes. "Dammit!" I realize the critical flaw in my plan the moment my hands touch her skin. The curse has me frozen in place, unable to channel the healing energy properly. My golden-glowing hands are stuck against her burnt flesh, useless as I remain paralyzed by her touch. "Mirelle, listen to me," I force the words through barely moving lips. "You need to command me to heal you." "What?" Her voice is weak, confused, her eyes glazed with pain. "Just say it," I plead, desperation clawing at my throat. "Say 'heal me.' I can't do it unless you command it." She stares at me through half-lidded eyes. "Heal me," she whispers, the words barely audible over the crackling of the still-burning tent. The command hits me like an electric current. Suddenly, I can move again, but only in service of her order. The golden light intensifies, flowing from my core down through my arms and into my palms. It's like nothing I've ever felt before, warm honey pouring through my veins, concentrated and streaming from somewhere deep inside me. "Oh goddesses," Mirelle gasps as the light spreads across her body. I watch in awe as her charred skin begins to regenerate before my eyes. The blackened patches flake away, revealing fresh pink tissue underneath. Burns fade from angry red to healthy flesh. Her singed blue hair even fades back to what it was. The golden energy envelops her completely, a cocoon of healing light that pulses in rhythm with my heartbeat. I pour everything I have into the spell, channeling every ounce of this strange new power. Something tells me to keep going, to not stop until it's done. The golden light grows brighter, almost blinding, as I feel myself growing weaker with each passing second. When the light finally fades, Mirelle lies before me completely healed, not a burn, not a scar, not even a scratch remains on her naked body. She looks up at me with wide, disbelieving eyes, running her hands over her restored skin. "Sam, you..." she begins, but I barely hear her. The world tilts sideways as exhaustion crashes over me like a tidal wave. My vision tunnels, darkening at the edges as I slump forward. My limbs feel like they're made of lead, impossibly heavy. I've never felt so drained in my life, not even during the worst days of chemo. "Sam?" Mirelle's voice sounds distant, underwater. Her face hovers above mine, features blurring and doubling as my consciousness slips. "Sam! What's happening?" I try to respond, but my tongue feels too heavy to move. The golden light that flowed through me has drained something vital, leaving nothing but hollow exhaustion in its wake. I can barely keep my eyes open. "Don't you dare die on me!" Mirelle's hands grip my shoulders, shaking me desperately. Her panic cuts through the fog in my brain, but I can't fight the darkness pulling me under. "Tired..." I manage to whisper before my body gives out completely. I sink into oblivion, Mirelle's frantic cries fading as consciousness leaves me.