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... air, and their spittle flowing freely down their chins, as they pawed at the earth impatiently, twisting and turning against the invisible command bindings that held them in place.
He had his followers as well. Men and women with souls as black as his, as craving in power as he was. He'd promised to teach them the secrets of magic. In the meantime, they made rather effective tools. Their swords glowed in the green fire that Francis had made his calling card, ever since he set his mother ...
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