Victor looked at Fyren. "Thank you, demon. For sparing me, I think."
"You are a fool of a hero, but no longer a dog of the church," Fyren said, returning the nod. "I will not kill you today."
"Thanks, I guess," Victor said, rubbing the back of his neck. I turned to Fyren and gasped. His state was no better than Victor's, perhaps even worse. I took his hand and recast the spell. He hardly moved as his wounds knit together, expressionless as always.
"Doesn't it hurt? Why didn't you say anything?" I asked, biting my lip.
He offered me half a smile. "Pain is nothing to a demon. I would suffer a hundred more cuts if it meant keeping just one more blade from reaching you."
"I...I don't understand you," I said, staring down at my hands clasped in my skirt. First the arena, now this.
He sighed, patting my shoulder. The gesture was rough and awkward, but warm. "I do what needs to be done. For your sake."
"I see you finished up here," a new voice said from the sky.
