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... ing him.
His anger, no longer containable, erupted: "Bogart? How much longer must I be buried in these books?"
Behind Fernard's throne, a Wraith materialized, utterly different from Sheimodo.
This Wraith, clad in a golden white robe, exuded a gentle demeanor.
His face, revealed beneath the brim of his robe's hood, was creased with wrinkles.
Had Bogart not been floating, no one would have guessed this elderly figure was a Wraith.
Bogart's face carri ...
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