As they continued their journey, the nights grew colder, and the air carried a metallic tang. Alysia noticed Aragos growing weaker, his steps faltering.
"You're not fine," she said, watching him clutch his side.
"I said leave it," he snapped.
That night, under the light of a blood-red moon, Alysia woke to find Aragos writhing on the ground, his body engulfed in golden flames.
"What's happening to you?" she shouted, panic overtaking her.
"The curse," he gasped. "It's fighting back."
Despite his protests, she placed her hands on him, channeling her magic. The flames subsided, but the effort left her drained.
"You saved me," he said, his voice laced with disbelief.
"Don't get used to it," she muttered.