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Through The Wind, Through The Gale

Khalantrophe’s body shook and his braided her glowed red. Venom oozing. Anger. Betrayal.

A vision of a man wearing a white tunic with a staff on his hand.

“I see him.”

“The Necromancer, Levi.” Antheia said, composed as ever, immaculate in her thick robe, covered with vines and flowers and leaves. Bare feet. Long hair dragging across the sea of clouds. “He’s our enemy. Not humanity.”

“And who are the others?”

Antheia looked at her perfect pair, her lips parting and her green eyes sparkled — the colors illuminating until there was a hint of gold. “His creations.”

“You saw them?” Khalantrophe asked.

"I saw the creature of Tar and Coal." Antheia admitted. "Anastacia was consumed by one, I barely managed to save her."

Upon hearing her name, Anastacia's eyes opened. There’s a strange chill in the air, an ominous silence that makes the hair stand on her arms. She forgot how she was unable to move. It’s too much for her, and Anastacia wants to speak. To scream. She’s seeing too many things.
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