Expelling poison, secluding it, separating it — her wizard had imparted this wisdom upon returning from the mirror in the lighthouse. He spoke of splitting essence, distinguishing what was him and what was not, tearing the foreign from the self. He had described this ability as manipulating smoke or poison, a metaphor that surfaced now in the midst of her affliction.

When the energy torrent had rushed through him, he had internalised it. When the mirror world energies had threatened to shatter his body, he had not succumbed but integrated them. He had made them his own and then, when it had been necessary to return through the mirror, again separated from them. At the brink of death, he transcended the boundaries of his existence, manipulating his essence, weaving and unweaving the threads of poison energy to suit his will.

Midnight’s body was on the edge of breaking. As venom and memories surged through her, a sinister vision emerged — the need to absorb, adapt, and emerge stronger, mirroring the path her wizard had tread before her.

This is what her wizards did; he gave her knowledge that surpassed instincts. And if Midnight trusted this knowledge over her instincts, she would become more like him forsaking beast intuition for wizard insight. This marked the essence of the bond between familiar and wizard; through repeated trust, they transferred and cultivated each other’s abilities.

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