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End of Year News (December 2017)

Thu Dec 28, 2017 3:57 am by Adrian

(It's been one year since I made a news thread, oops)

Merry Christmas/Festivus/whatever holiday you do or do not celebrate!

2017 was a pretty busy year IRL for most of us - according to forum statistics, our busiest month was in June with 1671 total posts, meaning our post rate has been a little …

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Forum Bug

Wed Dec 28, 2016 3:18 am by Adrian

Hi all,

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Thu Dec 08, 2016 1:35 am by Adrian

Just a news, update test. Trying to get this thing to work.

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Stones of Power

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Re: Stones of Power

Post by boyhoy on Tue Aug 06, 2013 12:07 am

ACK! I have to read up again!!

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Re: Stones of Power

Post by Neela on Sat Sep 07, 2013 12:24 am

Why are all of the writers here so perf <4 I can only dream of being this talented xD

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Re: Stones of Power

Post by WritingBookworm on Sat Oct 05, 2013 11:37 pm

Thanks guys. And for those who keep tabs on this story, sorry about not updating in a while. I hope this makes up for it. And after this chapter. . . well, that's when things start falling into place.

Chapter 9: The Skeletons in the Closet

Celia had started off toward Lance before he even left. “Lance, wait-“

Boom. The slam stopped her in her tracks as if it had stabbed her. Its echoes rebounded across the room, as if lingering to remind her of her failure.

All of her blood turned to rock, forcing her to stay still. Her heart leapt up her throat. Darts pierced behind her eyes, and her head slowly inched downwards.

For a while, she’d believed that she could make it. She’d actually thought that her Counterpart could come back and that she could live. . . for Roselle’s sake.

But now things weren’t looking that way. Even if she went after him, he wouldn’t agree to do it. From the fury in his eyes and the way he had yelled, there was no way now.

And all of it was because. . .

She turned around to see Demitria. Her sadness switched to anger as quickly as an arrow let loose. She’d never been best friends with her, but now her features were the most maddening thing in the world.

Her throat felt as if it was about to explode. “How could you?” The words came out almost jumbled. “How. . . why did you do that, Demitria? Thanks to you, Lance is gone!”

Demitria let out a huff as if the matter was nothing more than a pesky fly she wished to get rid of. “Oh, please. You’re blaming me? It was his choice to leave.”

“But he left because of you!” Celia’s balled up her fists. “Now there’s no one to bring back my Counterpart! I’m actually going to die.”

Now they were clenched so tight that she was drawing blood. “Thanks to you. . . thanks to you. . .” she began muttering.

“It’s not just Demitria’s fault.” Melody stepped forward and gently laid her hand on her chest. Her face was solemn, as if it was attached to strings that someone was pulling down. “It was mine too. I helped contribute to the cause.”

“Melody, don’t blame yourself,” Barrett’s voice was strangely distant. “I agree with Demitria for once. It was his choice to go.”

The conversation became distant from Celia. They talked about Lance’s departure as if it was just a trivial matter. But it wasn’t. Not to her. Her life depended on his willingness to help them; tonight she had even less stamina than before. Her time was coming.

Before she knew it, tears began leaking out of her eyes and sobs racked her body. She put a hand on her face so the others wouldn’t see her cry. Within a matter of seconds her palm was sticky with tears and her chest felt as if it was folding into itself.

Suddenly the room was brought back into view; something warm had wrapped around her wrist and pulled it away from her face. She brought her head up to meet Zephyr’s blue eyes and weary smile.

“Hey, everything will be all right,” he said. Both his words and his tone somehow managed to be as reassuring as a warm fire on a cold day.

Celia wanted to say something, but couldn’t bring herself to. Instead her lip trembled. After a few seconds, she brought herself to guide her hand out of Zephyr’s so she could wipe her face. A few strands of light brown attached themselves to her palm in the process, forcing her to peel them off and tuck them behind her large ears.

She looked at Zephyr again, then put on a smile herself to reassure him of her feelings. Somehow, it managed to help put her own anxiety to rest as well. The anxiety was further extinguished when he placed a hand on her shoulder, then moved it up and down as if trying to heat her body.

“It’ll be okay,” he said again.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Um. Hello. Zephyr, just what are you doing?” Demitria reappeared at his side and pulled him away from her. “You know how I feel about you being with other girls.”

“Demitria, she needed to have a little comfort. . .”

Celia closed her eyes and rolled them underneath. Even now, Demitria was as possessive of her boyfriend as ever. Rightly so, given the ignorance she’d been given all of her life, but still.

For the billionth time she wondered just how Zephyr was able to put up with her. At times Demitria was nice, but most of the time? Not so nice. Especially not to her; she was always afraid that she would steal Zephyr from her. Granted she did have a small crush on him, but Zephyr and Demitria were happy together and she didn’t want to be the one to ruin that happiness. Hence, she’d learned to accept this long ago.

“. . .so cut her a little slack, all right?” Zephyr made a few hand gestures to help in his argument.

Demitria still looked unmoved. “Look, losing her Counterpart is awful and everything. As much as she’s annoying, I don’t wish for her to go die. But if she were as committed to this as she said she was, she would have picked a better person for the job. I mean, the dunce doesn’t even know he’s in Arcania, does he?”

Ugh. Demitria never ceased to amaze her when it came to her density. Even when she was practically on her deathbed she-

Celia felt as if she’d just been punched in the stomach.

Lance- she hadn’t told him that he was no longer in Geomelis. Oh goodness, if she didn’t go out and find him really soon, he wouldn’t be able to return home.

For a moment, she couldn’t move. Then she suddenly reached down, picked up the onyx, and sprinted to the door. She grabbed the sturdy doorknob and used all of her strength to throw the door open even though it required little.

“Lance,” she called. “Hey, Lance!”

No response. Wherever he was, Lance couldn’t hear her.

She inhaled a clump of chilly air. The action sent ice trickling through her veins, forcing her to shiver. She took in the familiar surroundings. The green field with multiple tan patches rolled all the way to the forest looming in the distance. Far on her right and behind her was a lake she and the other members of the Resistance drew water from. And to the left was a line of buildings, barely discernible. On top of it all, the steady glows of reds, pinks and purples illuminated the area.

All in all, it never changed in all the years she’d lived around the place. . .

Celia shook her head rapidly. This was no time to get caught up in memories. What she needed to do now was focus and find Lance.

She looked around, searching for any kind of shadow or silhouette that could suggest a person. With how barren the place was, she should be able to see him right away.

But she couldn’t. . .

That only meant one thing. Out of the areas surrounding her, there was only one place around where she couldn’t detect someone right away.

The forest.

Celia began running toward the forest. The skirt lashed out against her skin, both the ruby and onyx pendants kept thumping against her skin (the ruby on her chest and the onyx on her thigh) and the wet ground embraced her feet like quicksand as she ran across it. Within a matter of seconds her breaths became shorter and shorter and sweat broke out on her forehead.

“Lance!” she called out again once she had entered the forest. “Where are you?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She mentally picked herself up and started running again despite the protests her muscles gave. Before long it felt as if she were dragging a building as she ran. She almost ran headfirst into one of the trees, putting her hand out and catching herself just in time.

“Lance!” The forest became a maze of brown and green, and the stray twigs, leaves and occasional rock scratched at her bare feet. “Lance!” She started getting hot despite the cold air- how long had she been running? “Lance, where the heck are-“

Abruptly she stopped when she found a clearing with heavy leaves shielding the sky and more or less bare, tan ground with a few clumps of grass dotting the area here or there.

The first thing in it that caught her eye was an old, bare skeleton of a house- one could barely even tell that it was a house. But that’s what all of the eroded crisscrossed beams suggested. Only one of the stone walls was still intact, and part of the second floor had fallen, forming a makeshift slide.

Celia’s throat tightened and quickly turned her attention to the second thing.

Lance. He had been looking up at the sky, mouth slightly agape until he realized her presence.

“The moon,” he said slowly. “Or the moons.”

She glanced at the sky. Sure enough, two of the three Arcanian moons were somehow managing to survive the sunrise, one a dark black and one a pale, almost ghostly blue in a sea of red and pink.

“Yeah,” replied Celia. “What about it?”

Lance looked at her, his obsidian eyes glimmering with confusion as they darted back and forth between the moons and her. “But there’s only supposed to be one moon.”

“You’re mistaken, there’s-“ she remembered the reason she had come to find Lance in the first place. “Actually, you’re partially correct.”

“What do you mean by ‘partially’?”

“Geomelis has one moon. Arcania? Three, actually- one of them’s in a new moon stage, so only two appear tonight.”

“Are you. . . saying I’m in Arcania?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

How she’d been expecting him to react, she didn’t know. Get mad? Scared? Maybe even overcome with excitement at the prospect of being in a whole different dimension? Whatever it was, she didn’t expect the way he closed his eyes and took the news in silence. He gave a sigh that seemed to say, Of course I am.

Celia took his silence as an opportunity to go on. “After you were knocked out by Astra, she and other associates of Nocturne’s, Terrence and Gavin, tried to kill me. They didn’t know who you were, but I’m guessing that they wouldn’t have minded killing you either, judging from the way Astra used you. I had to haul you onto my back and get out of there as soon as possible. Terrence chased me, and I had to fight back. . . but in the process I set fire to the hospital.”

Lance drew in a breath so quickly that she was half surprised that it wasn’t accompanied with the crack of a whip. “You what?”

She cringed. “It was an accident. And most of the hospital patients were evacuated in time.”

“Most of them?”

“I don’t know everything, Lance.” For the second time that hour she felt tears start to well up.

“What about Michael, and that girl-“

“I don’t know!” She felt as if a mace had hit her in the stomach. “I don’t know, I don’t know. I can’t always help my powers. I can’t always help that, that. . . that fire burns! That it burns everything in its path, or-“

“I never said that.” His voice was strangely quiet, and his face adapted to a concerned look. It almost looked strange on him. In normal circumstances, she probably would have laughed at how awkward it seemed.

“It’s all right,” he said. “You. . .” he struggled for the right words, as if trying to properly discern their meaning. “You didn’t mean to.”

With that, the tears stopped. She was too surprised by this sudden display to be sad. Did he. . . was he actually concerned?

If it was concerned about this, then maybe he would hear her out on something. . .

“Lance,” she almost whispered. “Do you think you can put your onyx back on? I need you to try to make a shovel.”

Celia held out the onyx to him, and once again that cold, closed off mask she had gotten acquainted with was back. He simply stood there for a while, to the point where her arm was starting to get tired of holding it out.

At last, he took it and put it back on.

He set to work immediately. He screwed  up his face first, trying to remember the details of creating objects out of dark matter. Then his face was still, and before long black outlined his stocky body like an aura. He held out a hand; shortly part of the dark aura broke off to form a line in his hand.

He suddenly fumbled as if he had tripped, and she instinctively stepped forward to see if he was all right.

Apparently he was, for he straightened himself as the head of the shovel began to come together. Sweat appeared on his forehead, his lips were tight and he almost seemed to be shaking. . .

Finally the dark aura vanished. Out of breath, Lance dropped the newly formed, black shovel and fell to his hands and knees.

Celia patted him on the back as a thank you, then picked up the shovel. The entire thing was black, the blade being a darker shade of it then the handle. It seemed pretty sturdy and, while it had a basic design, managed to look rather  nice.

“Your second time ever doing this, right?” she asked.

He was too tired to speak. He just gave a weary nod.

She smiled. “This is fantastic for your second try ever. Now, to get to work.”

She walked to the top left area of the burnt house. She squatted and felt around the dirt as if her hand was having muscle spasms. At last it settled on an area that looked slightly fresher than the rest, as if it had been dug before. She stood up and stamped the shovel into the ground before starting.

Even though she had her back turned to him, she almost saw Lance stand up. “What are you. . .” he inhaled a few more swaths of air, “doing?”

Celia looked over her shoulder as she added to a clump of leftover dirt. “Digging, of course. There’s something I buried here.”

She turned her attention back to the hole, knowing what question was coming next. She began working furiously to the point where her shoulders threatened to crack and was almost as out of breath as Lance.

Sure enough, the question came. “If there’s something you just happened to bury right here. . . was this your house?”

The ruby suddenly felt like it weighed the amount of a building.

Fortunately, she did not have to answer that. When she was about two feet in, the shovel hit something hard and metallic with a sound that felt like a weight being dropped.

“Here it is,” she announced. She used an edge of the shovel to clear away dirt on the surface of the item- the sound it produced made her spine tense as if she’d heard raking of chalk on a blackboard. To make herself more comfortable, she reached down and wiped the dirt with her palm.

Immediately she regretted it. The surface of the object was fully exposed- the top o f a silver box, striped with dirt and patched with age. A diamond that had long ago lost its shine crowned the box. Memories threatened to consume her with this unveiling- she had to fight off every last bit of those memories.

Celia dug around the edges, then cast the shovel aside. She got down to her knees, ignoring the bites from the scattered rocks and dirt.

All right, she thought. How stuck is this going to be after two years?

She reached down and grasped the edges of the box as best as she could. Her arms began to throb, struggling not to fall into the hole. She bit her lip as she pried it out as best she could, trying to wedge her fingers between whatever crevices separated the box from the hole.

Something sharply tore through her skin, sending short arcs of pain through her. A grunt escaped from her. She inspected her forefinger- small stream of blood was trickling from it.

Apparently Lance heard her. “Are you. . . um. . .”

“I’ve got it,” she snapped, frustration seeping out of her. Then, she added, with a kinder tone, “But thanks.”

She wrapped part of her dress around the cut. Soon the bleeding stopped, though her fingertip was still red and stinging some.

At last she wrenched the box free. Giving a sigh of relief, she hoisted  her upper body back up and stood.

Celia inspected the box, observing it from every angle possible (some of them twisted her arms). It really hadn’t changed- it was the size of a novel, but at least five inches deep. At all four corners were feet, like the kind one would see on a fancy bathtub. In the middle laid a latch.

Lance craned his neck, taking it in. “What’s that?” he inquired.

Once again she didn’t answer. She just stared forlornly at the box. Lance, the forest, even the burnt house couldn’t begin to register in her mind. There was no way they could, with the box ordering the icy vines of memories to wrap around her.

Roselle. . . why?

Sudden even to herself, she flipped the latch, bringing herself back to the world of the living. She peeled the lid of the box open, revealing its contents.

There was an assortment of trinkets- a necklace with a crudely shaped yellow five-pointed star hanging on a leather cord, a pocket-sized book with a blue cover and a few makeshift paintbrushes of different sizes. Laying at the bottom was a small picture.

She swept all of the items to a side of the box and took out the picture. It showcased a young woman wearing a white shirt. She had straight, light brown hair that came down to her chest, coming together to form the shape of an oval. Her face resembled one of those perfectly cut diamonds with high cheekbones, a small forehead and a graceful chin. Topping it all off was a pair of round, ocean blue eyes.

Though some features were different, for the most part, she looked exactly like Celia.

She handed the picture to Lance, who studied it as if purposefully trying to find a fault in it. “Who’s this?” he finally asked. “And why are you showing it to me?”

“Her name was Roselle.” She looked at the box again. She wondered if she would ever be able to meet his eyes while explaining this. “She was the Crystal Mediator. . . and my older sister.”

“You have a sister?”

“Had, actually.” She quickly moved on before he could ask about it. “We were so different yet so similar at the same time, both aggressive but caring in our own ways. I was fiery, passionate and frequently making a fool out of myself while Roselle was harsh, nonchalant and frequently laughing at me as I messed up. She was very cynical, almost to the point of cruelty.”

“Sounds like, you know. . .” he gave a cough that sounded very similar to 'Demitria'.

Celia allowed a small smile. “Yeah, Demitria reminds me of her sometimes. . . one of the reasons I’ve never been quite able to get along with her. I’ve never been able to really look at her without seeing Roselle, and Demitria took it the wrong way. That, coupled with a very small crush on Zephyr- I’ve let go of him at the same time, if that makes sense- she’s hated me ever since.”

“Cheerful.”

“Ha. Very.” She gave a small lift of her eyebrows. “But while Roselle had her flaws and, sure, she never did set good examples as an older sister, she also had some positive traits. While I spent most of my childhood more or less roughhousing with Astra and a few other boys, Roselle was quiet. She read many books and devoted herself to studies in a way that I never could.”

“In a way you never could? Sure, you can be a little hyper at times, but you seem like a smart girl.”

“I’m not saying that I was vapid- Roselle was simply smarter than me. More creative, too. She was quite the artist- after a few years of practice she got very good.”

“Was she the one who drew this picture, then?” he pointed to the drawing of Roselle.

Celia shook her head. “That was mother’s doing- also a very talented artist. She was the one who Roselle looked up to. Watching both my mother and my older sister become amazing artists. . . I tried my hand at it because I looked up to them so much. Roselle eventually thought I was copying her though, trying to steal attention as- well, when you’re a beginner at things, you get a lot of encouragement. Roselle thought I was a huge copy-cat and didn’t exactly tolerate much from me when it came down to that subject.”

“Nice sister,” Lance snorted.

Her chest tightened at the insult to Roselle. “For your information, she was the best sister anyone could ask for,” she reprimanded. “That’s. . . well. . .”

Her muscles felt weak and the ground beneath her was suddenly unsteady. When it came down to this, almost nothing was steady. Was she ready to relive this again?

But she had to. In order to convince him to help her bring back her Counterpart, she had to tell him why she had to live, why she couldn’t afford to die. She didn’t have to tell him all of the details, but enough to get him to stay.

She directed her eyes to the tan ground. She put almost all of her energy into looking at it, preventing other images from invading her head as she spent the other part of her energy talking to him.

“One day I did something stupid- really, really stupid- that caused a lot of destruction. It was something so bad that it could have been punishable by death. It rid me of my parents and nearly everything I held dear, including Astra. When the law arrived to take me away to my fate. . .”

This was the hard part. She opened her mouth and closed it many times, trying to figure out what to say.

“What?”  Lance asked. His head was tilted in impatience, yet at the same time she saw the vague glimmer of interest in his eyes among all of the boredom.

She had to be blunt with herself, she decided. Thus she forced the next words out.

“Roselle completely surprised me by stepping up and taking the blame for the deed. The men on those horses bought it and took her away to her death. They never even sent the body back or anything, so this,” she knelt down and set the box on the ground as if handling a most delicate glass cup, “is what I had to bury. Her jewelry box and a few small trinkets.”

The silence was so thick that it was palpable. The only sounds that dared to be heard were the soft crunching of the socializing leaves and a soft, melancholy tune of a nearby bird.

“After that I lived on my own for a bit, eventually finding the Mediators I live with now,” she continued. “But that’s a different story. Each of us had our own different scores to settle with Nocturne, mine being the order he gave to put me to death and killing Roselle. Ever since I promised myself that I would live for my sister’s sake. She can’t have died for nothing.”
Celia’s fingers wrapped around her ruby carefully, and then all at once they tightened around it with a grip of steel. “Actually, I will not allow her to have died for nothing. No way.”

She then turned and looked at Lance straight in the eye. “Now you know that I feel your pain. You’ve lost an older sibling, same as I. I can’t get mine back, but you can. And I want you to find him since you’ve got that chance- but for my own sake, I can’t let you until you help me find and bring back my Counterpart.”

She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Please, Lance. I can’t die now. You are literally my only hope. If you don’t help me, then. . .” she racked her brain, trying to figure out what else she could do and settled with pleading him with her eyes. “Then that’s it. My fate’s sealed.”

Lance’s expression remained as stoic as it had when she had first met him, the way it had during the duration of the story. She looked into his eyes, tried to find any sign of anything hinting of a desire to help her. . .

A part of her heart plummeted to her stomach. Please Lance, come on. . .

She lowered both her eyes and her hand when he still gave no sign of a willingness to do it. She took a few steps back and relaxed her muscles. Why? Why wouldn’t he . . . she had seen a sympathetic side to him earlier, just minutes ago. Where was that side now when she needed it most?

“I’ll do it.”

Her head snapped back up, eyes wide, to see him more or less unmoved- the only difference was that his eyes had slid to the side. Then slowly a smile began to unravel on her face.

“Thank you,” she said.

“However.” His voice was so hard that he might as well have taken back his obligation. “Only on one condition.”

“Name it.” She didn’t care what condition it was- no matter how horrible it was, it couldn’t be worse than death.

“Once your Counterpart is brought back and Levi found,” he started, “then I want out. I want to be left alone and resume my normal life. I don’t want to get into all of this Nocturne business- he may be threatening the dimensions,” he added when Celia opened her mouth, “but you guys can take care of that. Leave me out of this. Deal?”

“Deal.” She almost felt tempted to repeat the word several hundred times over, she was so relieved.

“And I mean, leave me alone,” Lance continued. “Not as last-minute backup, nothing. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Never before had Celia been so willing to say those two words as she was now.

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Re: Stones of Power

Post by Adrian on Sun Oct 20, 2013 11:36 am

Writing! You mind if I put this on my blog?

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Re: Stones of Power

Post by WritingBookworm on Sun Oct 20, 2013 11:12 pm

On your blog? Which blog is it?

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Infinity's Row: Interlude l Anaphora: Pariah l Infinity's Row: Uncontrollable l Anaphora: Vengeance]

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Re: Stones of Power

Post by boyhoy on Sun Oct 20, 2013 11:14 pm

SDFSDNFSODIFNEWOFIN WRITING!!! I MISSED YOU!!!! I'M STILL SO FAR BEHIND ON THIS STORY BUT IT'S AMAZING AND I REALLY NEED TO READ IT RIGHT NOW BUT I CAN'T BUT I WANT TO SO BADLY AAAAAAAHH IDK WHAT TO DO!!!!

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Re: Stones of Power

Post by WritingBookworm on Sun Oct 20, 2013 11:21 pm

@boyhoy wrote:SDFSDNFSODIFNEWOFIN WRITING!!! I MISSED YOU!!!! I'M STILL SO FAR BEHIND ON THIS STORY BUT IT'S AMAZING AND I REALLY NEED TO READ IT RIGHT NOW BUT I CAN'T BUT I WANT TO SO BADLY AAAAAAAHH IDK WHAT TO DO!!!!
Boyhoy! Very Happy I missed you too! Sorry, I've just been a little bit busy as of late. Razz
And lol, relax. Razz You know, it's fine if you don't read the story right now--take your time. I'm glad you like it so much. ^.^ Thanks!

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"You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun."

Infinity's Row: Interlude l Anaphora: Pariah l Infinity's Row: Uncontrollable l Anaphora: Vengeance]

Currently Reading: Dear Evan Hansen by Val Emmich
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Re: Stones of Power

Post by boyhoy on Sun Oct 20, 2013 11:23 pm

I shall read it as soon as I can! I have so many other books to read Dx. Too much stuff, not enough time!

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Re: Stones of Power

Post by WritingBookworm on Mon Oct 21, 2013 1:02 am

Ha, I know right? I have a big reading list--Ender's Game, House of Hades, Scarlet, Prodigy, Fall of Five and now Allegiant is coming this Tuesday. The sad part is I don't think I'll be able to read any of them till December. Sad
And Zedd, I found your blog. Go ahead--and thank you for putting Meeting Tom Riddle on there as well. That seriously means a lot. Smile

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Re: Stones of Power

Post by Adrian on Mon Oct 21, 2013 8:21 pm

^^ No problem.

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Re: Stones of Power

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