And the day finally comes.

Your daughter is nine now. She's adorable. She's your precious little joy, and all the time you can spare is dedicated to her. You've called her Purity. Your mother hated it. She thought it sounded like a hooker's name. You didn't care. The name you gave her was a blade designed to cut through the tainted layers of evil fate that befell you, but also to defend her against the magic you already knew, deep down, that you'd unleash some day...

And you protected her. You made sacrifices. You grovelled when you has to to make sure that, however spiteful your parents might be, they'd never take their anger out on your daughter. You misdirected Doe and Alex anytime you had to thanks to your ever increasing mastership of sex and sexual magic. They never realised that the submissive little slut was, slowly, starting to control their sexual antics and desires.

You made sure she would have a future. And you made sure you would, too. You spent three years learning, and three more years building a complex spell. Then you spent three more years feeding the spell, growing it like a plant, making sure it rooted deep within the city's consciousness, grasping upon every little indiscretion, every impure thought, every hateful word. If sexual pleasure happened anywhere within the city, the spell grew a little stronger. If pure love was expressed anywhere near you, it grew in complexity and refinement. If sexual desire was felt by anyone close by, you could feel the bond that connected you to the growing spell increase.

It was a permanent, distracting influx of sensation, and yet you mastered it. Your sister never imagined that outcome of her little prank, but you've become a woman of immense willpower. You may or may not revert to your initial gender someday, provided it doesn't harm Purity in any way, but whatever may happen, you will keep all your memories, and that incredible self control you acquired over those ten long years. You might get back into John's body, three days after your sister's prank, and much later a wonderful young lady might give birth to your precious Purity. You might stay a woman forever and finish raising your daughter, having erased the parts if your life you dislike from history, and replaced them with ten long years of medical studies, in the supportive and caring environment provided by your beloved parents, horrified at the **** you suffered coming back from Church. You might become a strong, thirty year old John, educating the daughter your girlfriend, who died in a horrifying car accident soon after giving birth, gave you.

You don't know yet, but you know the spell is strong enough now. Any fruit you decide it should bear, it will nurture and provide.

There is but one tiny piece missing now. Nine years. Three and three and three. Blood and Flesh and Sperm. Stag and Deer and Doe.

Blade and Root and Flower.

One piece only is missing.

One piece.