Kieran's body convulsed one final time as Penelope poured everything she had left into the working, her hands trembling around her staff, blood from the cut above her eyebrow mixing with sweat as she forced the last threads of dark magic out of her brother's body.
He screamed, a raw, human sound now, no longer doubled or hollow and then went still, chest rising and falling in shallow, exhausted breaths, his eyes fluttering open a pale, ordinary brown for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
"Penelope," he rasped, voice cracking. "What did I—"
"Later," she said, already turning away from him, gathering the last dregs of her strength for what came next. "Rest. You're free now."
She found the source of the dark magician's remaining power at the edge of the platform where Mavros had fallen, not gone entirely, some final tether of his essence still clinging stubbornly to the fading remnants of the spell, refusing to release its hold even in death.
