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The sun had fully risen now, painting the transford manor house in warm gold light. What had once been the Dark Lord’s fortress now looked like sothing from a storybook—peaceful, inviting, completely ordinary. Birds had already begun nesting in the eaves, as if they’d always been there.

Morgana stood apart from the others, staring at the building. Her hands hung at her sides, her staff resting against her shoulder. She hadn’t moved for several minutes.

"He’s really gone," she said quietly. Not a question this ti. Just a statent, repeated as if saying it enough tis would make it feel real.

Adam walked up beside her, hands in his pockets. "Yeah. He’s really gone. You can stop checking now."

"I’m not checking. I’m... processing." She shook her head slowly. "My whole life has been leading to this mont. The prophecy. The hunt. The running. The loss of everyone I loved." Her voice caught. "And now it’s over. Just like that. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with the rest of my life."

Adam shrugged. "Sa thing everyone else does. Wake up, eat breakfast, find sothing to care about, go to sleep. Repeat until you get bored and decide to do sothing else."

Morgana looked at him. "That’s your advice?"

"That’s my advice. It’s not profound, but it works."

She almost smiled.

rlin approached, Kahdijah and Bolt trailing behind. He looked at Morgana, then at the house, then back at Morgana.

"It’s ti," he said. "Ti for us to leave."

Morgana nodded. "I know. I just... I didn’t think it would feel like this."

"Like what?"

"Empty." She t his eyes. "I spent so long hating him. Wanting this mont. And now that it’s here, I don’t feel triumphant. I don’t feel satisfied. I just feel... tired."

rlin was quiet for a mont. Then he nodded slowly. "I understand."

"Do you?"

"I think so." He looked back at the house. "He wasn’t just a monster. He was a person who beca one. There’s a difference. Killing him wasn’t like putting down a rabid animal. It was like... ending sothing that should never have been allowed to continue. But that doesn’t an it felt good."

Morgana studied him. "You’re wise for soone your age."

"I’m not—" He stopped, sighed. "You know what? I’m giving up. Call whatever you want."

Adam snorted. "Character developnt. Love to see it."

rlin ignored him, focusing on Morgana. "Before I go, there’s sothing I need to give you."

He reached into his pocket—a gesture that was completely unnecessary, since he could create anything from nothing—and pulled out a book. It was thick, bound in deep blue leather that seed to shimr slightly in the light. Gold lettering on the cover spelled out a single word: Morgana.

She stared at it. "What is this?"

"Open it."

She did.

Her eyes widened.

The pages were filled with spells—hundreds of them, thousands maybe, written in languages she’d never seen but sohow understood perfectly. Protection spells that could shield entire cities. Healing magic that could cure any wound. Offensive magic that could level armies. Rituals for summoning, for binding, for communing with forces she’d only read about in legend.

"This is..." She looked up, breathless. "This is everything. Every spell ever created. Every school of magic. Every lost art."

"Pretty much," rlin agreed. "I didn’t just put spells in there. I also restructured your mana reserves. You’ll never run out of power again. You can cast continuously for days without tiring. The book itself will guide you, teach you, show you how to use things you’ve never even imagined."

Morgana’s hands trembled. "rlin, this is... I don’t have words."

"You don’t need words. You need to run this world while I’m gone." He smiled gently. "Soone has to make sure everything doesn’t fall apart now that the Dark Lord isn’t holding it together. I can’t think of anyone better than you."

She clutched the book to her chest. "I won’t let you down."

"I know you won’t."

He reached into his pocket again and produced a small stone—smooth, grey, unremarkable. It pulsed faintly with inner light.

"This is for communication," he said, handing it to her. "If anything goes wrong—anything at all—just hold it and think of . I’ll hear you. No matter where I am. No matter what world I’m on. I’ll co."

Morgana took the stone, her eyes glistening. "You’re really leaving."

"I’ll be back. I promised." He glanced at Adam, who was watching with an unreadable expression. "But I need to learn what I am first. And they’re the only ones who can teach ."

Morgana nodded, swallowing hard. "Go, then. Before I say sothing embarrassing."

rlin laughed softly. "Take care of yourself, Morgana. And take care of this world. It’s yours now."

He turned to Adam. "Ready?"

Adam stretched. "Been ready. Waiting on you, actually."

rlin ignored that. He looked at the manor one last ti, at the rising sun, at the distant city where his parents waited.

Then he nodded.

"Let’s go."

Adam raised his hand, and a portal swirled open beside them—different from Alex’s, different from any they’d seen before. It pulsed with gentle light, inviting rather than threatening.

Kahdijah went first, disappearing with a wave. Bolt followed, pausing only to give rlin a look that might have been respect.

rlin stepped toward the portal. Then he paused, looking back at Morgana.

"You’re not just a survivor," he said quietly. "You’re a leader. A priestess. A protector. Don’t forget that."

Morgana clutched the book tighter. "I won’t."

rlin smiled once more, then stepped through.

Adam lingered a mont longer. He looked at Morgana with those strange, unreadable eyes.

"He’s special," Adam said. "That kid. He’s going to do great things. But he’s also going to need people who believe in him." He tilted his head. "Make sure you’re one of them."

Before Morgana could respond, he stepped through the portal.

It closed behind him with a soft whisper, leaving Morgana alone in the morning light, holding a book of infinite magic and a stone that could reach across realities.

The manor stood silent behind her.

The city celebrated in the distance.

And for the first ti in her life, Morgana had no idea what tomorrow would bring—but for once, that felt like hope instead of fear.

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