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A suspicion began to form in my mind. I'd known Sierra was special from the moment we'd met her. Her ability to speak with the dead, her unique powers—powers that were still developing. But this... this suggested something else entirely.

"Sierra," I began carefully, setting my daggers aside and taking her hands in mine. "Is there any chance you might have Angelic blood?"

Her eyes widened, the silver-grey irises catching the candlelight. "Angelic blood? Me?" She shook her head. "I don't think so. Gran never mentioned anything like that. She just said I was special."

"Special doesn't begin to cover it," I murmured, squeezing her fingers gently. "The Angelic tongue isn't something youcan just pick up, Sierra. It requires certain... physiological structures. Vocal cords that can produce sounds beyond the human range."

She looked troubled, her lower lip caught between her teeth. "But I don't know anything about angels. I was raised by my grandmother. My parents died when I was young."

"Perhaps your Gran knew more than she told you," I suggested gently. "Or perhaps she didn't know herself."

Sierra's expression was pained, and I immediately regretted pushing the subject. Her past was still a tender wound, and here I was, prodding at it with theories and suspicions. I cupped her face with one hand, my thumb brushing over her cheek.

"Hey," I said softly, "it doesn't matter where your abilities come from. What matters is that you have them, and they're part of what makes you... you."

She leaned into my touch, her eyes closing briefly. When she opened them again, there was a new resolve there. "What did it say? The passage I read."

I looked down at the text, my mind replaying her perfect recitation. As I mentally translated the words, something clicked into place—something I'd missed before because I'd been reading the standard translation.

"'The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it,'" I began, translating the first part. "That's a common phrase in Angelic texts. But the next part..."

I frowned, going over the words in my head again, giving special attention to her pronunciation and inflection.

"'When dark turns to dawn, and the scourge is brought along, the one with dual blood shall forge it together to be the bringer of the sun.'"

Sierra tilted her head. "And that means...?"

"It's not how I've been reading it," I said, excitement beginning to build in my chest. "The translation I've been usingrenders 'flagellum' as 'scourge'—which is technically correct. But in this context, with your pronunciation..." My mind raced, putting pieces together rapidly. "It should be 'bane.' Lightsbane."

Sierra's eyes widened, and I could see she was following my train of thought. "And 'adductor solis'?"

"'Bringer of the sun,'" I translated. "But 'solis' can also mean 'light' in certain contexts. Lightbringer." I flipped through my notes frantically. "That has to be it. Lightsbane and Lightbringer aren't separate weapons—they're the same weapon in different forms, or parts of the same whole!"

I scanned the passage again, new understanding dawning. "'The one with dual blood shall forge it together.' Dual blood... someone of mixed heritage." I looked up at Sierra, my excitement building. "Someone like me."

The realization hit me like a physical blow. My Angelic blood—the heritage I'd tried so hard to forget—might be the key to defeating the shadow beast. The cruel irony wasn't lost on me; the very thing that had marked me as different, as other, might now be what saved us all.

"What does it mean, Archer?" Sierra's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "How do we get Lightbringer?"

I stood abruptly, lifting Sierra with me. Joy and relief surged through me as the pieces finally, finally clicked into place. I spun her around the room, her silver hair flying out behind her, a laugh escaping her lips.

"It means," I said, setting her down but keeping her close, "that Callum's Lightsbane isn't just similar to Lightbringer—it's part of it. 'The one with dual blood shall forge it together.' I have to use my Angelic blood to transform Lightsbane into Lightbringer."

Sierra's eyes shone with hope and wonder. "You can do that? How?"

"I'm not entirely sure," I admitted, "but I think my healing powers are the key. They're Angelic in nature, which is why I've always been careful about using them. But if I focus that power not on healing, but on transformation..." I trailed off, my mind racing with possibilities.

"This is it, Sierra," I said, cupping her face in my hands. "This is how we defeat the shadow beast. This is how we keep you safe."

The relief that washed over me was almost painful in its intensity. After hours of searching, of fearing we had no way to protect Sierra, we finally had a plan. A concrete way forward. I couldn't help myself—I bent down and captured her lips with mine, pouring all my relief and joy and hope into the kiss.

When I pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. "We need to tell the others," she said breathlessly.

I nodded, unable to contain my excitement. "Callum needs to bring Lightsbane. We need to try this as soon as possible, before the shadow beast returns."

I gathered Sierra in my arms once more, spinning her around the room in pure elation. For the first time since I'd watched her nearly plummet to her death, I felt something other than fear and dread.

I felt hope.