I'm the Villain, But the Heroines Keep Choosing Me-Chapter 134: Open Mind

Damien found Seria and Elara in one of Valdara’s training yards the next morning. Seria was running drills with local guards, correcting their formations with the patient efficiency of someone who’d done this a thousand times. Elara sat nearby, reviewing medical supplies and occasionally offering suggestions.

"Mind if I join?" Damien asked.

Seria glanced over, considered him for a moment, then nodded. "Grab a practice sword. Let’s see if you remember basic footwork or if all that shadow magic has made you lazy."

It was an olive branch. A return to normalcy after yesterday’s tension.

They sparred for twenty minutes – not seriously, just enough to work up a sweat and fall into familiar rhythms. When they finally called it, both were breathing hard and grinning despite themselves.

"You’re getting sloppy," Seria observed. "That last block was terrible. I could’ve disarmed you easily."

"I was distracted by how you keep telegraphing your strikes."

"I do not telegraph – "

"You absolutely do. That little shift in your shoulder before you swing? Dead giveaway."

Seria threw a towel at his head. "Shut up."

Elara laughed from her spot on the bench. "You two are ridiculous. It’s like watching children argue about toys."

"He started it," Seria said.

"No not really."

"Very mature, both of you." But Elara was smiling, the tension from yesterday easing slightly.

They found a quiet spot away from the training guards, and the easy mood shifted to something more serious.

"About yesterday," Damien started. "You were right. I’ve been hiding things, making decisions alone, convincing myself that isolation was smart instead of destructive."

"We know," Elara said. "And we understand why. It’s not like the corruption makes being open and vulnerable feel natural."

"But it’s still a problem. You two are supposed to keep me grounded, and I can’t let you do that if I’m constantly hiding pieces of myself." He took a breath. "The Emperor’s assignments – the political assassinations – I should have told you immediately instead of compartmentalizing it as something you didn’t need to know."

"Probably," Seria agreed. "Though I get why you didn’t. It’s not exactly dinner conversation – ’hey, by the way, I’ve been quietly murdering imperial officials for the past week.’"

"Still. You deserved to know. To make informed decisions about whether you wanted to be involved with someone doing that kind of work."

"We’re already involved," Elara pointed out. "Being here means we’re complicit in everything you do, whether we know the details or not. Might as well actually know what we’re being complicit in."

"Fair point."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Seria spoke, her tone more thoughtful than confrontational.

"About Lyristae. I know we came down hard on you yesterday, but... I’ve been thinking. Watching you two work together during the battle coordination, seeing how you move around each other. There’s something there that we can’t provide, isn’t there?"

Damien considered denying it, then decided honesty was the entire point of this conversation. "Yeah. She understands what the corruption feels like from the inside. Knows the specific burden of wielding power that scares people while trying to remain someone worth trusting. You two support me despite not experiencing that directly. She supports me because she’s living it too."

"That’s different from romantic interest though, right?" Elara asked. "Understanding shared burden versus actually developing feelings?"

"I think so? Honestly, the corruption makes it hard to tell. Everything feels more calculated than emotional most of the time."

"Which is why we’re concerned. You might be drawn to her for practical reasons – shared experience, mutual understanding – and mistake that for something deeper because the corruption is muting your ability to distinguish between types of connection." Seria spoke carefully, like she was working through the logic as she went. "But that doesn’t mean the connection isn’t valuable. Just that it might not be what it seems like on the surface."

"So what are you saying?"

"I’m saying maybe we were too quick to dismiss her entirely," Seria admitted. "You clearly need someone who gets the shadow magic thing. We can’t be that person for you, no matter how much we want to be. Maybe having Lyristae fill that role is actually healthy instead of threatening."

"As long as it stays in that role," Elara added. "Support for the specific burden we can’t understand. Not replacement for what we provide."

"She’s not replacing anything...could never." Damien meant it completely. "What I have with you two – it’s foundation. Everything else is just... supplementary."

"Good answer." Elara leaned against his shoulder. "And for what it’s worth, I don’t think she’s bad for you. Just potentially complicated. We wanted you to be aware of that before diving into something that might create problems later."

"I’m aware. Trust me, I’ve been overthinking this constantly."

"Of course you have," Seria said. "You overthink everything. It’s one of your more annoying qualities."

"Says the woman who spent three hours yesterday planning defensive positions that could have been done in thirty minutes."

"That’s not overthinking, that’s thoroughness. There’s a difference."

"Sure there is."

Elara sighed dramatically. "We’re back to the children thing again, aren’t we?"

They talked for another hour – not about heavy topics or relationship dynamics, just normal conversation. Seria’s frustration with local guard incompetence. Elara’s discoveries about Valdaran Church politics. Damien’s observations about the city’s reconstruction efforts.

Normal. Human. The kind of connection that didn’t require crisis or intensity to maintain.

When they finally parted ways – Seria to continue training, Elara to coordinate with healers – Damien felt lighter. The anchor bonds felt stronger, clearer, like he’d been slowly suffocating without realizing it and had finally taken a full breath.

---

He found Lyristae that afternoon in her private library, surrounded by old texts and looking frustrated.

"Research?" he asked.

"Attempting research. Mostly just getting irritated by how little useful information exists about shadow magic’s origins." She gestured to the scattered books. "Everything treats it like aberration or curse. Nothing discusses practical management or long-term effects."

"Probably because most shadow wielders don’t last long enough for long-term effects to matter."

"Cheerful thought." But she smiled slightly. "How did things go with your companions?"

"Better than expected. We talked, cleared some air, established better communication patterns."

"They’re less concerned about my corrupting influence on you?"

"Less concerned about me hiding things from them while blaming you for it," Damien corrected. "They actually suggested that having another shadow wielder to talk to might be healthy."

"Well that’s progress." Lyristae set aside the book she’d been reading. "And where do you land on that? The whole ’what kind if companions are we’ question?"

"Honestly? I’m still figuring it out. The darkness makes everything feel more complicated than it probably is."

"Everything is more complicated than it probably is. That’s just life." She stood, stretching. "Want to see something interesting? I found something in the archives about shadow magic’s actual origins. Not the Church propaganda version – the real history."

"Definitely."

She led him deeper into the library, to a section that looked like it hadn’t been accessed in decades. The books here were ancient, leather-bound and crumbling.

"According to this – " She pulled out a particularly old tome. " – shadow magic wasn’t always considered demonic. Originally, it was just one of several elemental affinities. Fire, water, earth, air, light, and shadow. All equal, all neutral, all just tools."

"What changed?"

"Politics, mostly. When the Church of the Goddess became the dominant religious institution, they needed to define themselves in opposition to something. Light versus darkness became convenient framework. Shadow magic got classified as demonic, users got persecuted, and within a few generations everyone forgot it had ever been considered legitimate." She flipped through pages. "But here’s the interesting part – shadow magic users weren’t inherently more dangerous or corrupt than any other mage type. The corruption we experience? That’s apparently a side effect of suppression, not the magic itself."

"You’re saying we’re corrupted because we’re forced to hide it?"

"I’m saying the corruption might be worse because we can’t practice openly, can’t learn proper techniques, can’t build community with other shadow wielders who might help manage the effects." She looked at him seriously. "What if everything we think we know about shadow magic is just propaganda designed to keep us isolated and manageable?"