Note: This scene contains an implied suicide attempt. If you don't want that, please skip the second scene of this chapter.

He used charisma to lure her and many others into his twisted experiments.

❂❂❂

Shadow Weaver found Micah in the throne room of the Snows. He stood at the window with his back to her, his sorcerer's staff unleashed and glowing with rosy light.

He was responsible for Shadow Weaver's suffering. He'd sent Nell's lover to torture her; he'd stolen the battery so Hordak would abuse her; he failed the Spell and created her prison. But she would ensure Micah never knew happiness again, for once he was a corpse, he would know nothing.

"Let's end this," she snarled.

Micah turned around, staff in a battle position. But, to Shadow Weaver's surprise, the young king was crying.

"Strike first," he said. "You want to, right?"

Shadow Weaver elongated her staff into a spear, her scarred face twisting into a scowl beneath her mask. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

Micah parried her first strike, whirling around her and slamming a burst of kinesis magic into her back. Shadow Weaver's spine popped with a sickening sound. She backflipped off the wall, defying gravity itself with a growl. But before Shadow Weaver could recover, Micah grabbed her in a headlock, bringing his elbow up to choke her.

Shadow Weaver gritted her teeth; she was four inches taller than him, but Micah had packed more muscle into his shorter frame. She hacked blindly with her dagger, trying to break free, but he kept hold. And he wept.

Shadow Weaver took this opportunity to throw her whole body weight against Micah's; they skidded to the ground. He recovered quickly and pinned her to the floor – pushing on her chest and trying to crush her bones.

Am I such a monster? Someone whom he must murder?

Shadow Weaver bellowed an animalistic sound, pushing him off with kinesis magic. Micah flailed through the air, landing on the ground with a sob.

He'd never cried when dueling her before.

Shadow Weaver propelled herself forward and struck; in a move that seemed inhumanly fast, Micah grabbed the spear and yanked on it. Shadow Weaver skidded but let go before she could be dropped. Instead, Micah seized her by the back of her uniform and froze her with kinesis magic. Then he pushed backward.

Shadow Weaver's lower spine collided with the wall, and sharp pain jutted from her hips. They weren't broken, but bruised? Likely...

She gazed at the spell, closing her eyes and trying to break free, but she could not concentrate.

Micah struck her head against the wall like a tool against an anvil. Again and again. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Shadow Weaver cried out, breaking free as if by sheer force of will. But Micah wasn't finished with her yet.

✧✧✧

Micah stopped weeping.

He slammed Shadow Weaver against the ground again, re-freezing her. The pain hardened into numbness. Micah was a tool; he'd made her this. He'd run away, but he would never be a coward again.

This is it. The end of the war. Micah pressed harder on Shadow Weaver's ribs, feeling little cracks beneath his magical touch. She writhed under Micah's grip with hideous wailing, but she could do nothing as he ended her life.

For Angie. For Nell.

Her cries punctured his heart. Micah closed his eyes. But when he did, the din became sobs.

Not sobbing as she died beneath her apprentice's touch. Instead, tears as she hugged him in the little cottage of Mystacor, as she told him that no one had ever loved her like he did.

And he remembered her warm embrace in Delvala, as he promised never to let her go.

Micah's strength faltered. And then, Shadow Weaver sucked it away from him. His old teacher stood free, hair billowing as she gasped and clutched her ribs. But instead of attacking him, she ran straight toward the edgeless balcony ten feet above the moat.

"No!" Micah cried, teleporting. Shadow Weaver leaned backward off the ledge, laughing breathily. But Micah grabbed her wrist roughly, forcing her into an embrace and holding her tight.

"Let go of me, you fool," Shadow Weaver snapped from beneath his grip, although she made no move to break free.

Micah pried the dagger out of her hands and tossed it off the edge. "It wasn't my fault," he said, his voice firm. "You were the one who told me about the Spell. I wasn't the one who researched it. You didn't tell me it could go wrong; when it did, you didn't run. So the Spell is not my fault!"

"You – I –"

"I love you!" Micah exclaimed, gripping her tightly. "I promised myself I always would. That I would never let you go."

Shadow Weaver took shuddering breaths, standing still on the ledge. Then she put her arms around him...

And dug her black claws into his back, past his shirt. Exposed to the cold, Micah gasped at the stinging pain. She chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder. "Oh, Micah...how long will you drag this out? You know you want to hide your mistakes. You can erase the ghosts in your past. Just end me, and you will be free."

Beneath her deep feminine tone lay something more ancient. Something...evil. Tears streamed down Micah's cheeks. "I love you," he whispered.

Her claws dug in deeper, icy needles pressing slowly into Micah's muscles.

"I will die before I become the cause of your death."

Deeper.

He saw spots from the pain. "I never wanted to hurt you. Not now. Not ever. I'm so sorry, Alura."

A long moment passed. Shadow Weaver sniffled, her claws exiting his back as she hugged him tightly. Finally, her voice came out in a strangled whisper. "I...know..."

Then she pulled them both over the edge of the balcony.

❂❂❂

Did you know...

- I found Micah's arc really powerful in this scene, and I appreciate how it doesn't paint a dichotomy of "save vs. kill," or "blame vs. vengeance." Micah still wants to save her; now, it's for the right reasons.

Tell me what you think...

- Will Shadow Weaver accept salvation? Why or why not?