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... aking on a silver sheen as she began to weave the pattern of the ritual.

It was beautiful.

She directed the flows of mana like a conductor guiding their orchestra, painting the sky with sure motions. It was art.

The difference between his ritual and hers was plain. He could cast the ritual, but it was a plain, simple working with no grace to it.

She had a gift, a natural aptitude for working with Mana that was beyond him.

He smiled. There was a time when h ...

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