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"Why would she do this?" he asked, his voice hollow.

"For the same reason any parent makes sacrifices," Azrael replied simply. "Love."

Callum stepped forward, his pale green eyes fixed on Lightbringer, which had appeared on a stone pedestal in the center of the garden. "The sword," he said, changing the subject to give Archer a moment to compose himself. "It's truly transformed."

We all turned to look at the weapon. In the garden's natural light, Lightbringer was even more extraordinary than it had appeared in the forge. The blade seemed to be made of material that wasn't quite metal, wasn't quite light, but something in between. It captured sunlight and reflected it backwith prismatic intensity, sending rainbows dancing across the garden.

"Approach it," Azrael instructed. "See what you have created."

Callum moved first, drawn to the sword that had once been Lightsbane, his ancestral blade. As he neared the pedestal, Lightbringer began to pulse with a soft, blue-white glow that intensified with each step he took.

"It recognizes you," Azrael observed. "As it should. Your shadow essence is woven into its very being now."

With reverent hands, Callum lifted Lightbringer from the pedestal. The moment his fingers closed around the hilt, the sword's glow stabilized, neither increasing nor diminishing but settling into a steady radiance.

"It feels... alive," Callum murmured, his eyes wide with wonder. "I can feel it humming with power."

"Lightbringer is more than a weapon," Azrael explained. "It is a conduit for the combined powers of all four of you. When wielded against the Shadow Beast, it will channel your collective strength into a force capable of banishing it back to the void between worlds."

Rowen approached the sword cautiously, his hand outstretched. When his fingers touched the flat of the blade, blue-black flames danced briefly along the edge before subsiding.

"My fire," he said, surprised. "It's still there."

"As is Archer's light," Azrael confirmed. "And Sierra's celestial blood. All bound together by Lianna's sacrifice."

Archer finally stirred from his grief-stricken silence, moving to join the others at the pedestal. When he touched Lightbringer, the sword flared with a pure white light that momentarily blinded us all.

"It responds most strongly to you," Azrael noted. "Your dual nature resonates with its own."

I approached last, my legs still unsteady beneath me. As my fingers brushed the hilt, a shock of recognition passed through me. I could feel them all there—Callum's shadows, Rowen's fire, Archer's light, and something else. A gentle, maternal presence that could only be Lianna.

"She's in there," I whispered, tears filling my eyes. "Part of her, at least."

Archer's hand covered mine on the hilt, his fingers trembling slightly. "Thank you," he said softly, though whether he was speaking to me, to the sword, or to his absent mother, I couldn't tell.

"The Shadow Beast will come for you soon," Azrael warned, drawing our attention back to the matter at hand. "It will sense Lightbringer's creation and seek to destroy it before you can use it against it."

"Let it come," Rowen growled, his eyes flashing with determination. "We're ready."

Callum nodded, his grip tightening on the sword. "We'll face it together."

"All of us," Archer agreed, his grief temporarily set aside in favor of resolve.

I looked at my three mates—demon lord, fae king, and angel-demon hybrid—and felt a surge of love so powerful it took my breath away. Against all odds, I had retained my memories, my powers, my connection to them. Lianna's sacrifice had given us this chance, and I would not waste it.

"Together," I affirmed, placing my hand over theirs on Lightbringer's hilt.

The sword flared once more, as if in agreement, its light filling the garden with the promise of hope, of victory, of a future where darkness would be banished and light would prevail.

Whatever came next, we would face it as one.

To Be Continued…