The battle was chaos. Spells flew like rain, and Mattheo barely had time to think as he fought. His only focus was keeping you safe. But in one cruel moment, he saw it— the curse that hit you. It was like the world stopped. He screamed your name, running to you as you fell to the ground. "Stay with me," he begged, cradling your lifeless body. Blood smeared across his hands as tears streamed down his face. "You can't leave me like this."

For a week, Mattheo was a shell of himself. He barely spoke, barely ate. The fire in him was gone, replaced by a cold emptiness. Every night, he sat where he had buried you, talking to the stars like you could hear him. Then, on the seventh night, a glow surrounded your grave. Mattheo blinked, not trusting his eyes, but then he heard it. You were there, alive, standing in front of him.

"Mattheo?" You whispered, your voice weak but real.

He was on his knees in seconds.

"You're back," He choked, tears streaming down his face.