"This was supposed to be Owen's child." Suliman's voice was hazy, distant. Howl tried not to focus on her, but rather kept his gaze on Sophie's petrified look. She was stunned; she was completely struck by his revelation. He recognized that look. He'd seen it every time he lied, every time she'd discovered a hidden secret. It was a look of agony, of so much inner pain not any spell nor amount of magic was able to revert the damage.

He wondered how she still hadn't left him after everything he'd done.

Suliman's breath was strong and rancid in his face. Howl imagined she hadn't cleansed herself in a while. It wasn't only her breath; she looked like a disheveled mess as it was - greasy, unkempt hair, nails bitten to the nub, she didn't even try to hide her age anymore. Maybe putting her energy into chasing Howl all these years finally wore her out.

She clenched her teeth. "This child should have been his, not yours. The Hatter heritage had been suppressed for so long, she was destined to produce one of the greatest magicians of darkness in this lifetime."

Sophie yelped and tightened her grip around the blankets. "How is that possible?"

Suliman turned to the struggling girl, amusement eerily present on her face. "What, you thought your dear sister simply gained her superior abilities on her own? That your family line had no bearing on whether she would become a Seer?" Suliman laughed almost like a cackle, but more reserved. "She's just as powerful and yet she confines her abilities to defensive and basic spells. She's a disgrace to magicians, especially to your family."

Sophie tried ignoring the ever-present doctor checking and analyzing her contractions, but with so many people in the room during such an intimate moment it was difficult not to notice their presence. She had expected Howl and a trustworthy doctor at most. Had she done a home birth she knew her sister and Gwenda would be there by her side as well. But with Suliman lurking in the midst, intent on stealing the precious child she held inside - Sophie was anything but ecstatic.

Sophie bit her lip. "But my source is electrokinesis, not darkness."

Suliman stood with her back crooked, leaning toward Sophie. Her eyes were plagued with greed, something not far from a craving, a thirst for something unattainable. Suliman was a mad woman, but Sophie had never seen such derangement. "Doesn't matter. This child will be dark even if I have to train it to be."

Howl scoffed. "Like you couldn't do with Owen."

She glared at Howl, her eyes narrow and black. Howl might have regretted his words, but there wasn't anything Suliman could do at that point to worsen their situation. She seethed through her teeth, pushing air through like steam coming from a teapot. "Don't you dare speak ill of my son! He's dead because of you!"

"He's dead because of you and you know it." Howl countered. "He wouldn't have battled me if he didn't think he needed to earn your love."

She stood before him and with no hesitation brought him up in the air with her hand tightening around his throat. He was no longer bound by electricity like Kenta or Xarx, but the pressure around his throat restricted his breathing, making each breath a struggle. He tried pulling her off, though his efforts made no difference - there was nothing he could do against a grieving mother.

"I could kill you." Suliman whispered in the most cynical and hateful tone. She pushed her hand farther up his neck until she rested just below his jaw. His airway was fleshy and soft, almost like jello - so vulnerable and delicate. "I could kill you right now and then I could kill Sophie. I could rid the world of your presence, giving me all the power over your child."

He was weak to her, a pawn so easily played she continued to knock him down and bring him back up just to repeat the process. Kenta and Xarx stood between him, both feeling as helpless as Sophie and as enraged as Suliman. Howl's struggle fed her power and she pushed harder and farther up until his eyes nearly rolled back into his head. At that moment, she released him.

Howl fell to the floor, wrapping his own hand around his neck. He coughed to the floor, taking in short breaths to resume the oxygen flow. He spat on Suliman's glimmering shoes, to which she responded with a bold kick to his face, knocking him against the wall.

"No." She knelt to his level, watching Howl struggle to remain conscious. "I won't do that. I want to see you suffer. I want you to watch as the woman you love bears your child and gives it to me."

Howl's body shook uncontrollably like the feeling of a winter gust brushing down his spine. Suliman's voice was low and engulfed with malice. "I want to see the look on your face as I say the words, 'I win.'"

Howl stirred slightly, his eyes scrunched and his head bobbing forward repeatedly. Kenta tried whispering a spell, but any time he came close to a solution Suliman already diffused his rescue strategy. Even in a heightened state of disarray, she wouldn't let anything slide past her perfect plan.

Xarx scanned the area, his senses picking up something unusual outside of the Palace. Body heat - a lot of body heat coming from mostly non-magicians. The humans who stood by and watched the battle had returned for whatever suicidal reasons they held - and a fiery soul lurking inside the Palace.

But this moment, this place with Suliman and Sophie and Howl and Kenta - was now taken to a more drastic level.

Suliman pushed Howl's chin upward, his feeble body lying against the wall helpless. "And I think I'll start my victory with another prize I've been waiting to get my hands on."

Sophie immediately pressed her body up, forcing herself to watch her nightmare come to life. It wasn't just a terrifying nightmare she could wake up from; it was finally a reality.

Suliman plunged her hand through his chest, Howl's body jerking forward without control, and she retracted her hand - a maroon, bloodstained heart now in her grasp. Howl was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Gwenda didn't know how it was possible for the battlefield to have been worse than when they left. There wasn't a stone on the ground untouched by someone's blood. The number of magicians noticeably moving was minuscule to those who covered the Palace entryway. The rain washed away the visible stones, but the blood flowed into streams between the cracks and the dead.

Gwenda needed to look away to keep herself from falling apart.

Everyone began shouting names, running through the labyrinth of the living and the dead hoping the person they were looking for was still in the former. Lona followed them, intent on finding Kenta and finding him alive.

Gwenda unwillingly let tears fall down her cheeks, the droplets merging with the rain in such a familiar way. She realized how often this had happened; she realized the numerous times she'd cried in the rain, the drops from above falling in line with her own pain, with her own sufferings.

She didn't know many of these magicians; she hardly knew the ones she desperately hoped were still out there, somewhere. And yet somehow, she embraced the loss of each and every one lying on the ground, accepting their departure and mourning their deaths.

A woman shrieked a fair distance away. Gwenda bit her lip, recognizing that voice. She held the urge to look at George and Somer as long as possible, but her gaze eventually fell upon the grieving couple. Somer held a man close to her chest - a beast being a more appropriate term - and stared with wide eyes at the revelation of their son. He tried to kill Lona and nearly killed Kenta earlier.

George held Somer's shoulder, not a shred of remorse seen on him. He met Gwenda's uncomfortable stare, his eyes entirely void of anything.

"Aria!" Mari and Beth rushed to a woman slightly older than them. She was distraught as she scanned the remains, her mind unable to comprehend the devastation that had occurred. The lives lost in what would have taken years of battle took less than an hour. Aria barely moved as Mari wrapped her arms around her. "Oh thank goodness you're alive."

Aria trembled as she raised her wobbly arms around her sister. "Why did this have to happen?" Mari looked over her shoulder and gasped. Nathan, her brother-in-law, blended into the majority as if he were just another victim. She held her sister tighter, never wanting to let go.

"Everyone!" A voice echoed in the storm from the other side of the massacre. He pointed to the dark sky toward darker figures flying.

The battle wasn't over.

Aria stood up quickly, her legs morphing into a spinning tornado. She eyed the oncoming threat with disgust. "Mari, you and the others need to go."

Mari chattered her teeth in the cold. "W-we came back to fight... by your side."

Aria's eyes were broken beyond any remedy. "I can't lose you, too. Please, you all need to find somewhere safe."

Mari shook her head. "We're staying right here."

"Gwenda!" A child's voice. Gwenda turned in all directions, seeking the source. Markl waved his arm high, the little wizard and Heen not too far away. She wasted no time in meeting him, as careful with her steps as she could. He continued waving as she shrunk the gap between them. The only words running through her mind were please let them be alive.

Lying on the ground, the Witch of the Wastes began to stir and regain consciousness. She'd been seriously injured - her left arm was bleeding through her sleeve and she looked like she'd been working in a coal mine for hours. She could hardly push her body up, so Markl levitated her until she was in a sitting position.

Markl bit his lip before speaking. "Is she dead?"

Gwenda knelt on one knee, assessing her injuries. She shook her head. "No, but she does need help." Gwenda ripped the end of her shirt and used the cloth to wrap around the Witch's arm. She was safe, but Howl and Kenta were still a mystery to her. Lona stood a few feet away, her wandering eyes scanning through the endless downpour.

Heen rested on his stomach, observing the scene carefully. Markl pet him from the top of his head down his back. They were each other's only comfort in such a disaster.

The Witch still seemed disoriented, but once she recognized Gwenda everything else seemed to fall into place. As she tried standing up, the Witch grunted from the pain. "How has that boy not found you yet?"

Gwenda raised her eyebrows. "What?" Then she turned to Markl. He was right behind her.

The Witch shook her head, then turned to their oncoming rivals. Still a fair distance away, Suliman's remaining army was en route back to the Palace. The damage to their numbers was extensive, only seeming to be a few dozen. With the humans alongside them, their numbers overpowered Suliman's. However, numbers meant nothing in a magician's fight.

The Witch pushed herself onto shaky legs until she found balance. She narrowed her eyes at the intruders, whispering something under her breath so low the rain covered her voice completely. Her gaze turned to Gwenda and Markl, both looking to her for answers.

"Madame Witch of the Wastes." They turned to Lona as she rushed toward them. "Did you see anything happen to Kenta after we left?"

"Or Master Howl?" Markl asked.

The Witch nodded. "Last I saw they went running into the Palace on a suicide mission. No doubt that Suliman locked Sophie there somewhere."

She turned to Gwenda. "Here. You might need this." Gwenda followed her hand as she raised it to the sky. She curled her fingers around the falling rain, and the drops fell together and trickled into the form of a sword. The Witch handed it to Gwenda, though she was afraid the structure would collapse into a puddle. The water moved around in its shape, like a stream moving back and forth repeatedly.

Gwenda held the sword higher and she jolted in shock as a flash of lightning struck down, hardening the water into a silver blade. The weight was alarming and she needed both hands to grip the sword, yet she was mesmerized by the reflection the sword gave off. It was a white light bouncing off of the raindrops that fell against its smooth edges.

They looked around to the remaining magicians. They were all in the process of arming their human cohorts with swords, shields, and body armor. Some held a look of fear, others a look of desperation. Gwenda stood dignified as she accepted her fate.

At this point, there was no turning back.