I'm Not Your Husband, You Evil Dragon!

The executioner’s torch descended.

The flame touched the dry grass, and in an instant, the fire erupted upward like a living thing, hungry and terrible, consuming everything in its path.

The flames licked at Anaya’s feet, and her scream tore through the square, a sound so raw and agonized that it silenced even the cheering crowd.

"IT HURTS! IT HURTS!" she shrieked, her small body jerking against the ropes that bound her wrists, that held her ankles, that trapped her in place as the fire climbed higher. Her legs kicked uselessly, her feet trying to escape the flames that were already consuming her skin.

"BIG SISTER! BIG SISTER, IT HURTS! PLEASE! SOMEONE! ANYONE!"

The fire spread with terrible speed, climbing up her legs, consuming her skin, her hair, her clothes. The flesh blistered and blackened, the heat so intense that the air around her shimmered.

The flames reached her knees, then her thighs, and Anaya’s screams grew weaker, more desperate, her voice cracking as her vocal cords burned.

"MOTHER! FATHER!" she cried, her voice breaking, her tears evaporating before they could fall. "PLEASE! PLEASE HELP ME!

I AM SCARED! I AM SO SCARED!"

But no one came.

No one moved.

The crowd watched with hungry eyes, their faces lit by the flames, their cheers rising like a chorus of demons. The children who had played with Anaya were held back by their parents, their small faces pale with horror.

The adults who had called her cursed now shouted for her death. The chief stood on the platform, his staff raised, his face cold with satisfaction.

Sara stood frozen at the edge of the crowd.

Her mind had broken.

She could not process what she was seeing. The same girl who had called her "big sister," the same girl who had played with children, who had laughed and smiled and dreamed of a better life, that girl was being consumed by fire.

The fire she had feared her entire life. The fire that had taken her parents. The fire that had marked her as cursed.

The fire that was now taking her.

Anaya’s body convulsed against the ropes. The fire reached her stomach, her chest, her arms. The blisters formed and burst, releasing a painful, purulent drainage that steamed in the heat. Her skin peeled away in sheets, revealing raw, bleeding flesh beneath. Her remaining hair, the beautiful red hair that had been her curse and her pride, was gone, burned away, leaving behind a blackened, smoking scalp.

Her face was the worst.

The fire had not reached it yet, but she could feel the heat approaching, could feel the flames climbing higher, could feel her death drawing closer with every passing second. Her eyes, swollen from the beating she had received, were covered in a black fold, searched the crowd desperately, looking for someone, anyone, who would save her.

She did not see Sara.

The flames reached her neck.

Her screams stopped.

Her voice had given out, her vocal cords damaged beyond repair. She could only cry now, her tears hissing as they touched the heat, her body jerking with the involuntary spasms of a dying animal.

Sara moved.

She did not think. She did not plan. She simply moved. Her body launched forward, pushing through the crowd with a strength that surprised even her. She shoved aside the guards, ignored the hands that tried to grab her, and leaped onto the platform with a force that cracked the wooden planks beneath her feet.

The white blanket she had been wearing fell away, revealing her burned skin, her blazing eyes, her desperate heart. The crowd gasped. Some stepped back. Others cried out in fear.

Sara did not care.

She ran to Anaya.

"ANAYA! ANAYA!" she screamed, her voice raw, desperate, broken. "DON’T WORRY! BIG SISTER IS HERE! I AM HERE!"

Anaya’s lips moved, but no sound came out. Her eyes, swollen and blackened, found Sara’s face. Her expression shifted, from pain, from fear, to something else. Something that looked almost like hope.

Sara grabbed the ropes, her hands burning as she tried to untie them. But the knots were too tight. Her fingers were too clumsy. The flames were too close.

She poured her magic into the child. Her hands glowed with a soft, golden light, a healing light that was supposed to mend wounds and ease pain. But the magic was weak, ineffective, barely enough to soothe the surface.

The sun had drained her. The battle had drained her. She had nothing left.

Anaya finally spoke.

It was nothing short of a miracle. Nearly seventy percent of her tiny body had been consumed by the flames. Her skin had burned beyond recognition, her lips were cracked, and even her vocal cords had been damaged by the fire. Every word that escaped her mouth was painfully strained.

"Bi... Big... Sis... ter..." she whispered, her ruined voice trembling. "Is... is that... you...?"

Sara completely broke down. Tears streamed down her face as she desperately poured every remaining drop of healing magic into Anaya’s broken body. Her trembling hands rested against the child’s burned skin as golden light spread across the wounds.

"Yes..." Sara sobbed, struggling to keep her voice steady. "It’s me. Big Sister is here. Just wait a little longer. Please... just hold on. I’ll heal you. I promise I’ll heal you."

The healing magic immediately began repairing the destroyed flesh. Burned skin slowly knitted together, new muscles formed beneath it, and fresh cells replaced those that had been destroyed. But Sara failed to realize what was happening. The flames surrounding Anaya had never disappeared.

Every time new flesh regenerated, it was instantly burned away again. Her healing magic was restoring Anaya’s body only for the fire to consume it again moments later. The endless cycle forced the little girl to experience the unbearable pain repeatedly, yet Sara remained unaware.

She was so desperate to save Anaya that she never realized her own healing magic had become another source of unimaginable suffering.

Around the execution platform, the entire village remained frozen. No one moved. No one could even raise a finger. Sara’s Absolute Command had spread across the square, binding every villager beneath the overwhelming pressure of her will. Even weakened by exhaustion and the merciless sunlight, her authority was still powerful enough to silence thousands. They could only watch the tragedy unfolding before them.

Anaya’s trembling lips slowly formed a faint smile. Whether she had accepted the pain or whether the agony had become so overwhelming that she could no longer distinguish it, even Sara could not tell.

"Big... Sister..." she whispered before taking another painful breath. "You... were... right."

Sara looked at her in confusion while continuing to pour healing magic into her body.

"W-What?" she asked through her tears.

"The... fire..." Anaya murmured. "It... feels... warm... just... like... you... said..."

As those words left her mouth, the black cloth covering her eyes slowly caught fire. The fabric curled and blackened before turning to ash.

Sara’s entire body shook.

"No..." she whispered, shaking her head violently. "No, Anaya. It’s not warm. It isn’t warm at all."

Her voice completely broke as guilt overwhelmed her.

"I lied to you," she cried. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It isn’t warm. It’s burning you. It’s hurting you. I lied because I wanted you to stop fearing fire. I never wanted this. I never wanted you to suffer like this."

She continued healing Anaya with shaking hands, refusing to stop despite the horrifying reality before her. Every spell she cast only prolonged the cycle of pain, yet she could not bring herself to give up. If there was even the smallest chance of saving the little girl, she would continue until every ounce of magic inside her was gone.

Anaya never responded.

Sadly, Anaya could no longer hear her. The flames had destroyed her eardrums, stealing away every sound before it could reach her. Sara’s desperate cries, her apologies, her promises, none of them reached the little girl anymore. Yet even in complete silence, Anaya knew Sara was beside her. She could feel the warmth of her hands, the trembling touch that refused to let her go.

"...Big... Sister..." Anaya whispered, calling for her one more time.

Sara lifted her tear-filled eyes.

She watched in horror as her healing magic continued its cruel cycle. New flesh formed beneath the golden light, only to blacken and burn away an instant later beneath the relentless flames. Her magic was no longer saving Anaya.

It was only forcing her to endure the agony again and again. Sara’s mind raced desperately, searching for another answer. She could not stop healing, yet she could not continue. Water would never reach Anaya in time.

The flames were too fierce, the fire too great. Every possible solution ended with the same unbearable conclusion. For the first time in centuries, Sara found herself completely powerless.

Meanwhile, Anaya’s tiny body had already begun to surrender. The pain had gone beyond anything a child could endure. Her breathing grew slower, each breath weaker than the last, yet a faint smile still rested upon her burned lips.

"Big... Sister..." she murmured, her damaged voice barely escaping her throat. "Thank... you... for... everything..."

Sara’s heart lurched.

"No..." she pleaded, shaking her head violently. "Please... don’t say that."

She recognized that voice. It was not the voice of hope. It was the voice of someone saying goodbye.

Anaya continued speaking, every word growing weaker than the last.

"My... last... few... weeks..." she whispered with a fragile smile. "They... were... the... happiest... days... of... my... life..."

Fresh tears streamed endlessly down Sara’s cheeks.

"I... had... a... big... sister..."

A painful cough interrupted her.

"I... made... friends..."

Another breath.

"I... ate... warm... food..."

Her smile trembled.

"I... thought... my... life... was... finally... getting... better..."

Her voice cracked.

"But... I... really... was... cursed..."

Sara could no longer hold back her sobs. Her healing magic continued flowing into Anaya’s body even though deep inside she already knew it was useless. She refused to stop. As long as Anaya still breathed, she would continue trying.

Several painful seconds passed before Anaya spoke again.

"Big... Sister..."

Sara immediately leaned closer.

"I’m here," she cried. "I’m right here."

Anaya smiled faintly.

"You... were... right..."

Sara froze.

"I... can... see... them..."

Her burned face tilted upward as though she were looking at someone standing beyond the flames.

"My... mommy..."

"My... daddy..."

"They’re... calling... me..."

Sara’s tears fell onto Anaya’s charred face.

"No..." she whispered desperately. "Anaya... please don’t. I lied to you. Everything I told you about the fire... about your parents... it was all a lie. Please... don’t leave because of my lie. Please..."

But Anaya could not hear her.

The little girl slowly turned her head toward the place where she felt Sara’s presence.

"...Big... Sister..."

A peaceful smile appeared on her burned face.

"...Let... me... go..."

Those words shattered what remained of Sara’s heart.

"No!" she cried, clutching Anaya’s small body even tighter.

"Please! Don’t ask me that! I can still save you. I can heal you. Please... just stay with me a little longer..."

Even as she spoke, she already understood the cruel truth.

Every second her healing magic remained active, fresh flesh regenerated only to be consumed again by the flames. She was no longer saving Anaya. She was only trapping the little girl in an endless cycle of unbearable pain. Her heart screamed at her to continue, but her mind knew there was no miracle waiting for her.

Her trembling hands slowly stopped releasing healing magic. The golden light faded until nothing remained. With tears flowing endlessly down her face, Sara accepted the truth she had refused to acknowledge from the very beginning.

She had lost.

The moment the healing stopped, Anaya’s breathing became peaceful. The blindfold covering her eyes had already burned away, allowing her to look at Sara one final time. Her vision was fading, yet the gentle smile on her face remained unchanged.

"Big Sister... thank you... for everything," she whispered softly before taking one final breath.

"I love you... Big Sister."

Those words became her farewell.

The light slowly disappeared from Anaya’s eyes while the peaceful smile remained upon her face. Without another sound, she left the cruel world that had rejected her from the day she was born.

A world that had called her cursed because of her red hair. A world that had feared her for something she had never chosen.

A world that had burned an innocent little girl alive simply because she was different.

Sara remained frozen, unable to move as the flames continued consuming Anaya’s lifeless body. Little by little, the ropes binding her wrists and ankles burned apart.

Her fragile body lost its support and gently fell forward, but before she could touch the burning platform, Sara caught her and pulled her tightly against her chest.

She held the child as though refusing to let anyone take her away again. Tears poured endlessly from her eyes while memories flooded her mind.

She remembered the frightened little girl who had hidden behind her whenever she cooked over a fire. She remembered the child who had clung to her leg, begging not to be abandoned. She remembered telling Anaya not to fear fire, never imagining that the very thing she had tried to help her accept would become the cause of her death.

Sara possessed power that countless races feared. She could defeat demons, command overwhelming strength, and make armies kneel before her. Yet standing upon that execution platform beneath the morning sun, none of that power meant anything. It had not saved the little girl who trusted her with all her heart.

All Sara could do was kneel there in complete sorrow, holding Anaya’s burning body against her chest while the flames slowly consumed the child she had called her little sister.

At that moment, the world revealed its ugliest truth.

In that moment, the world itself seemed to mock her.

If enough people decided you were a monster...

It no longer mattered who you truly were. It no longer mattered how kind your heart was or how innocent your soul remained.

The world would create the monster it wanted to see.

And the innocent would always be the ones forced to pay the price.

To be contiuned...

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