She was a lovely girl, attired in deep mourning, and having an expression of profound sorrow on her charming features. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. “That is where I got confused,” he said.
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