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February 7 - February 8, 2022
“He lived a good life,” Margery had placed a hand on her back, “and he shall feed the roots and the Earth, and from him will grow new life. He is not gone, child.” She kissed the top of her head. “He has merely gone home.”
“You created me for this!” He spread his wings. “This is my purpose! You bred the demon, you bore me in the battlefield, you wanted me!” He slammed his fist against his chest. “Am I not what you expected? Am I not the weapon you wished to own? I am what you made me to be! This is your fault!”
“And do what? Yell at her soul about how she defied you?” She scooped up the bouquet of dead Gle’Golun and set it in a vase on her windowsill, as though it were a present from a lover. He cringed at the mental image that afforded him. “Actually.” He straightened his shoulders and sniffed dismissively. “Yes.”