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In the turmoil of her despair, a hand with one signifier reached out for her. Mira looked up and froze, staring at her own reflection.

“Of course you can,” her younger self said, and pulled her up the first step.

A few steps higher stood another Mira—the one who had commanded Inseeli demons. “Come on,” she said, and reached out her hand. Mira took it.

She walked higher and higher, guided by the versions of herself who had faced impossible challenges before and mastered them. But when she stood in front of the double doors that led to her parents’ hospital wing, she paused.

She had seen their deaths a million times in her dreams, but it never got any easier.

Next to the door appeared the Mira who had destroyed Mercer’s amulet and freed Aidric from the enthrallment.

“You can do it,” she said with a smile. Her outstretched hand bore three signifiers. “You already have all the strength you need within you.”

Mira took a deep breath and accepted her outstretched hand. The lights stopped flickering, and the bodies on the floor disappeared. The doors swung open but this time she wasn’t greeted by death. This time, her father spoke to patients and her mother sorted through potions. They smiled at her. And when she took her mother’s hand in hers, her arm didn’t burn with Synth.

Magic wasn’t evil. Nor was it good. It just was power. Something that needed to be controlled. To be harnessed for good, just as Rakkley had corrupted it for evil. For too long she had rejected her magic. Feared it was the reason her scar caused her so much pain. The Dark Magic coursing through her now wasn’t hers…but she could use it to fuel her power—and weaken his.

“It wasn’t your fault,” her mother said. “Don’t you dare let him ruin your magic. Let it shine, darling. Let it shine.”

And so she did. Instead of rejecting her Dark Magic, she embraced it. Welcomed it until it rushed through her body. Dark clouds swirled around her, and she had never felt this free. The strand of Rakkley’s power in her mind weakened as it filled hers. Raw power that she made her own.

My magic isn’t to blame.

It was his fault.

The strand of her Dark Magic glistened with power. For the first time in years, she could breathe. The air around her moved, and she opened her arms, feeling the breeze against the tips of her fingers. This time, she didn’t call out to Dark Magic in desperation—she welcomed it.

With the next inhale, she felt the fourth signifier brand her thumb. Three dotted lines. Internum. She could destroy Rakkley’s organs with the flick of her hand.

Her right hand reached out into the swirl of wind and clouds and then she felt the last signifier. Sin. She knew which sin was hers the moment the ink marked her pinkie. A circle on top of an upside-down moon sigil. Wrath.

Rakkley lay still on the floor, and although his breath was labored, he was still laughing. The last bit of power would never leave him, and he remained unkillable due to the protection of the Hellyian demon. But she had depleted his powers enough that the demon would not survive much longer. The only way to kill Rakkley and destroy Synth for good was to return it to him.

You’re right, she said into his mind, and he looked up at her. This was never my power.

Then she let the weakened strand of Rakkley’s magic go and with it, Synth. He pulled it toward him so quickly, it made her dizzy.

She fell through clouds of dark mist. Aidric sprinted toward her from across the room, throwing spells to clear his way. All she could focus on was protecting her powers. The drain of energy felt increasingly heavy, crushing her more and more.

She landed hard in Aidric’s arms, but it wasn’t done. Closing her eyes, she focused on keeping her own magic separate from Rakkley’s pull.

Gripping Aidric’s arm, she wasn’t sure if her magic could withstand this. Maybe she couldn’t protect her powers from Synth’s greed.

He pulled her closer against his chest. “You can do this, Mira.”

She asked for her powers, commanded them to reject Rakkley’s, and they listened. Her five signifiers lit up and helped eject the power that wasn’t hers. Eject Synth. And then—it was gone. Mira felt weightless.

Blinking her eyes open, she looked up at Aidric and smiled at him. “It’s gone,” she whispered with tears in her eyes because finally, it had all stopped.

Her scar was still there, but it no longer burned. No longer itched. The beating drum of Synth was no more. Finally, she was free.

The third strand of power in her mind had vanished. Instead, her Dark Magic stood just as tall as her White Magic. Branches stretched out in different directions, the black strands twinkling with lights in multiple shades.

Rakkley was on all fours. All she had returned to him was a speck of his powers. The rest she had made her own.

A screeching sound pierced the air, and everyone covered their ears as the winged shadow creature left Rakkley’s body and the Hellyian demon disappeared through the floor.

Rakkley was now in possession of Synth. But he was weak and killable.