Blind Legacy of Time

Lyra held her breath, staring at Arden's limp form. The forest's silence cut like a blade after the chaos. His black hair clung sweaty to his forehead, his blind eye faintly glowing the yellow light gone, but its weight lingered. Her hands shook as she touched his shoulder. "Arden?" she whispered, fear and worry lacing her voice.

She'd watched him masterfully toying with the figure, wielding his flames with cold precision. Every move planned, every taunt deliberate. Lyra pulled him close, ignoring her burned arm, resting his head in her lap. "You saved me again," she murmured. "But that rage… what was it?"

Arden's eyes fluttered open, meeting her golden gaze. His mind was clear the fight, the barrier to shield Lyra, every flame bent to his will. The red spirit's whisper "Your master awaits" echoed, but he pushed it down. Sitting up, he faced her. "I'm fine," he said, calm yet sharp. "And I need to tell you something."

Lyra frowned but stayed quiet. Arden took a breath, locking eyes with her. "That fight wasn't chance. I used my flames that way because I can. Always could." He paused, catching her shock. "No questions, just listen. At first, it was hard they burned me, fought me. But I figured it out. I can shape them, Lyra. Taking down that thing… it was simple."

Her lips parted, but he raised a hand. "You'll ask why I looked helpless. I did it on purpose. I acted like I couldn't control them so you'd keep helping me… stay with me. Don't expect sappy lines I won't say your eyes stop the world. But having you here beats wrestling these damned flames."

Lyra's breath hitched, but he pressed on. "I'm telling you this because hiding it's pointless. When that thing attacked you, I had to protect you and I did. There's rage in me, Lyra. I can leash it, but sometimes it drags me. All I ask: don't dig too deep. You know what you need to."

Lyra fell silent, his words swirling in her head. That rage the wild, icy fury as he'd toyed with the figure had chilled her. But his honesty, that steady depth in his voice, softened her fear into trust. "For me," she murmured, meeting his gaze. He didn't reply just tilted his head, a subtle nod.

Walking home, Lyra stayed by his side. Her blood-red hair danced in the wind, her arm aching, but she held onto him. "You know," she broke the quiet, "your flames scare me that rage scares me. But still… I trust you."

Arden glanced at her, a faint smile tugging his lips. "Trust, huh?" he said, relief softening his tone. Her grip silenced the shadow within for a moment.

At home, Andre appeared at the door. Seeing Arden's calm and Lyra's wound, he scowled. "What's this mess?" he demanded, suspicion sharp.

Arden met his gaze coolly, Karlin's cunning rising. "Ran into trouble in the forest," he said, voice smooth. "Something crossed us, but it's gone now. Kept Lyra safe." Andre's eyes narrowed, weighing the slick confidence.

"Trouble?" Andre pressed, lowering his tone.

Arden smirked faintly, eyes cold. "Nothing worth losing sleep over, Father. Handled it nice and tidy, right?" His words posed a question but shut down further prying. Andre paused, then nodded. "Fine," he muttered, doubt lingering in his stare.

That night, alone, Arden summoned his flames. Blood-red fire rose in his palms controlled, deliberate. He replayed the fight: every move a calculation, every flame a tool. Karlin's mind was his inheritance and he'd wielded it for Lyra. "You make it bearable," he whispered, the flames flickering. His blind eye warmed, no light just pressure, like unseen eyes.

Lyra, at home, studied her burn. Arden's confession lingered feigned weakness, time spent with her… But that rage haunted her. "That fury," she muttered, calling her flames. Sweet scent spread, calming her. His mind impressed her; his anger tested her trust.

As Arden drifted to sleep, the colorless void returned. The red spirit emerged, mocking. "You mask it for her, but your rage can't hide." He woke breathless, Lyra's face before him. He'd wield his mind to shield her but taming his fury grew harder.