“Are we finished here, you ungrateful brat?” Shara asked. Sydney bent her fingers into one final piece of magic. The glass bottle that had held her shadow, the knife that had cut it, the pen that wrote, caught fire, burned. “We are.” When the last flame died out, Sydney turned and walked out of Shadows. She did not look back.
That seemed... too easy? To just waltz in and fuck shit up completely in one random go? It would have made more sense as a dream..
