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Rharan walked silently to his home. Something kept teasing at his mind... a phrase, something, he'd almost heard. Something about that being - demon, fallen angel, spectre of death... whatever it was - it almost seemed like it'd spoken directly to him at some point. Yet, as he replayed the events in his head, he knew there had been no time for that... everything had happened so quickly...
He walked through the door of his cottage. Sabreen looked up from where she sat, spread on the floor in a most ignoble fashion, playing with the babes. The wizardess looked up at him, her face turned serious. "They went through with the ceremony, did they not?"
"Aye, they did. But I fear it didn't go as intended." He explained the recent events to his wife, as he unfastened his armor and cleaned it.
"Dartel is but a fool, he should have been more careful," she pronounced at the end of the story. She stood, crossed the room, and hugged her husband tightly. "I'm just glad you're all right."
* * *
Sleep was a long time coming that night for Rharan. Finally, he drifted off, his wife curled against his side as usual.
- and awoke, sat upright in the bed suddenly, feeling horribly chilled. The voice... that thing's voice, he remembered now. As he was losing consciousness, that horrid voice drilling into his brain -
. "And for invoking His name in My presence, you
. shall surely lose all which you hold most dear..."
"What is wrong?" Sabreen asked him sleepily, as she gently urged him to lay back down.
"... nothing. A bad dream," he said hesitantly, as he stretched back out.
She yawned, and cuddled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Go back to sleep, my love, they'll be waking soon," she murmured, as she drifted away almost immediately.
Rharan held her close, and did not sleep again that night.
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