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Bitterness filled Silverfox It had begun with that first barrow, outside Pale This belief in the righteousness, the efficacy, of theft Justified by the worthiest of ends

But ownership bereft of propriety was a lie All that she hoarded was in turn stripped of value Memories, dreams, lives

Gone to dust

The hapless band of Rhivi spirits drew closer, cautiously, hesitating

Yes I understand What demands will I make of you no many more empty promises will I voice? I had a people for you, a people who had long since lost their own gods, their own spirits to whoiance, were less than the dust they could make of themselves A people

For you

Lost

What a lesson for four bound souls -- no matchmaker, we four

She did not knohat to tell thereet you’

Silverfox blinked her eyes clear ’Elder Spirit I have-’

’Have you seen?’

She saw then, in all their faces, a kind of wonder And frowned in reply

’Bonecaster,’ the fore Not far from here -- do you knoe speak?’

She shook her head

’There are thrones, Bonecaster Two thrones In a long hut of bones and hide’

Thrones? ’What -- why? Why should there be thrones in this realle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true"></ins>