Max Marchant

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He stopped. “Drills.” “Alone?” “Yes. No one sees me fight.” The words came as if he were used to saying them. “Why?” He looked at me a long moment, as if weighing something. “My mother has forbidden it. Because of the prophecy.” “What prophecy?” I had not heard of this. “That I will be the best warrior of my generation.”
The Song of Achilles
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