[center] [h1][color=red]FLASHBACK[/color][/h1] [h1][color=f26522]Roman[/color] & [color=D0B4EC]Lottie[/color][/h1] [h2]______________________________[/h2] [/center] [color=f26522]Time:[/color] Ignis 8th Evening [color=D0B4EC]Location:[/color] Vikena Estate [hr] [hider=A favor to ask] [color=lightgray] The wrought iron gates of the estate were familiar. Memories of just a few nights ago ran through his mind. Roman stood before them, his hand resting heavily on the cold metal bars, hesitating. He had stormed fortresses and faced down monsters that would stop a lesser man’s heart, yet the idea of walking down this path to ask for a favor felt significantly harder. Still, he knew he could not do this alone. He took a breath, steeling himself against the voice in the back of his mind that told him to turn around—the voice that whispered that his bond was good for him. No, he thought, pushing the gate open. Not this time. I can’t do this one alone. The path to the door was short, but it felt like it stretched on for miles. He couldn’t stop now; the gears set in motion would not stop for him. Could he trust her? He could only hope. Roman raised his hand to knock, hesitating just before his knuckles grazed the wood. His gaze fell on the small ruby set in the gold band, resting where the emerald had been just a few days ago. Its purpose was the same: to hide his aura. But the memory still stung. He pounded his fist against the door three times, then stepped back to wait. The lock turned with a soft click, and there stood Delilah Pembrook. She filled the doorway like someone who belonged there. Not because she was trying to impress, but because she carried herself with the confidence of a woman who’d spent years keeping a household running. Her hair was pulled back neatly, pale strands framing her face and her bright eyes were alert even before they settled fully on Roman. They did settle, though as she leaned against the doorway and folded her arms. Delilah’s gaze traveled over him with ease. She looked at his shoulders, the breadth of him, the way he stood. Her lips drew inward for a moment before the expression eased into a smile that was entirely too entertained to be called polite. [color=7ea7d8]“Well [i]hello[/i] there,”[/color] she murmured, and there was no mistaking the pleased note in it. [color=7ea7d8]“You’re a sight, aren’t you?”[/color] Her eyes lifted again to his face, holding there. [color=7ea7d8]“Lord Ravenwood, yes?”[/color] The question sounded like a formality, as if she’d already known it the moment she’d heard the knock and still wanted to hear him confirm it out loud. She stepped back and opened the door wider. [color=7ea7d8]“ Well, come in,”[/color] she said, the warmth returning like it had never left. [color=7ea7d8]“Lady Charlotte is in the living room.”[/color] And then, because Delilah couldn’t seem to help herself, her smile turned faintly mischievous again, her eyes flicking once more to his height as if she was savoring the view. With that, she moved aside fully to let him through, already turning down the hall as if she expected him to follow. Inside the drawing room, Charlotte was indeed curled up on the couch by the fire, her hair loose, dressed in a comfortable dress meant for quiet hours rather than company. She didn’t immediately notice their entry; she was absorbed in her book as if the rest of the world had been turned down. He tipped his head to the side at the woman who answered the door. She was definitely checking him out. He replied with a sly smile of his own, matching her look. [color=f26522]“You can call me Roman, miss.”[/color] He gave her a polite nod and stepped inside, following her into the immaculate estate. He had decided against wearing anything too formal today, opting for something simple that still allowed him to stand out: dark greens embroidered with gold designs. The tunic was loose enough to move in comfortably while still remaining stylish, with a pin of his house sigil fastened over his right breast. He hesitated when he saw her. Charlotte looked comfortable, peaceful—even entranced by her book. The urge to turn and leave was quickly squashed as he took a deep breath. [color=f26522]“Hello, Charlotte. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time?”[/color] He spoke with a warm smile, his eyes scanning her to see how her injuries were healing from the other night. His own visible wounds were mostly gone, save for a spot of red lingering in his eye, though his ribs still woke him up at night. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be worried about his friend. Charlotte glanced up and her expression immediately brightened a little. For a moment, her eyes flicked over him on instinct, searching his face the way she couldn’t seem to stop doing since the tavern, as if checking he was truly standing there and still whole. Her own wounds were mostly absent from the other night, besides a few bruises that had remained. The book slipped from her fingers onto the couch with a thump as she rose. She crossed the room quickly. She slipped her arms around him in a friendly, careful hug, mindful of his ribs, and drew back with that same sweet, earnest smile. [color=D0B4EC]“Hello, Roman,”[/color] she said softly, voice filled with sincere relief. [color=D0B4EC]“I’m very glad you came. Truly… there’s no such thing as a bad time.”[/color] Her honesty was always refreshing; she was genuinely happy to see him. Her hug was gentle, mindful of his ribs, but despite the pain, he pulled her in tighter with a laugh before letting her step back. [color=f26522]“I am doing much better, though I'm still a little sore. How are you? Your injuries seem to be healing well.”[/color] He smiled, his eyes holding a lingering concern for her before it faded. He glanced back towards Delilah, then returned his gaze to Charlotte. His posture and the look in his eyes shifted to something foreign for him. Resignation, maybe? A pinch of sorrow? But mostly, it was a quiet desperation. [color=f26522]“I don’t mean to be rude, but is there somewhere we can talk that’s private?”[/color] He offered her a comforting smile, but on his face, it felt heavy. Charlotte’s gaze dipped briefly to his ribs and drifted to her own hands, as if remembering how quickly everything had gone so dreadful the other night. When she looked back up, for once, she didn’t bother masking the weariness in her eyes. [color=D0B4EC] “I’m fine… All things considered.”[/color] She wrapped her arms around herself as a haunted look overtook her features. [color=D0B4EC] “Physically, I’ve been alright.”[/color] She clarified. [color=D0B4EC] But I must confess… it’s been rather difficult to get the images of that night out of my head..”[/color] Then, as if she realized she’d said too much, she drew that sweet smile of hers back into place. [color=D0B4EC]“Yes, of course—please come with me.”[/color] Then, she guided him to the estate library, passing framed portraits and scones along the way. Finally, they came upon the tall library doors. It had always been her favorite room of the house—especially since her dear friend Nolan had once declared it so all those years ago. It was quieter inside, the hearth low as the shelves towered overhead. Charlotte crossed to a maroon-cushioned couch near the window and sat down. After smoothing her skirt once, she folded her hands in her lap and waited for him to join her. He nodded along with her words. The pain was still there, of course—he would be concerned if it wasn’t. She was good at hiding her worry, that was for sure. It was a useful skill for nobility. [color=f26522]“I have something that could help ease that pain.”[/color] He followed her through the estate, passing many imposing portraits of faces he did not recognize, until they reached two tall doors covered in simple but eye-catching engravings. He found himself moving slowly through the library, his eyes scanning the spines of the books. Some titles he knew, but most he did not. The towering shelves eventually opened up into a lounge area, where a subtle warmth emanated from the hearth. There were a few chairs scattered about, but Charlotte chose a spot on one of the couches. Roman suddenly felt self-conscious. After a moment of hesitation, he sat down on the opposite end of the couch. He remained quiet for a moment, staring down at his hands before he finally spoke. [color=f26522]“I need your help.”[/color] The silence hung between them for a heartbeat. [color=f26522]“I need your help breaking a curse.”[/color] Charlotte exhaled softly, resolve settling over her features as her gaze dipped and her lashes fluttered downward. [color=D0B4EC]“Very well then.”[/color] she said after very little hesitation. [color=D0B4EC]“Tell me about this curse.”[/color] He was relieved to see no hesitation in her features—only resolve. He was committed now, yet he still found the words difficult to find. His eyes darted around the room, his ears straining for the slightest sound. The library was a prime location for listening devices, whether placed by friends or foes. But he didn’t have the time to search. He had to take a leap of faith. [color=f26522]“It’s a blood bond. A very intricate one.”[/color] He unbuttoned his left sleeve and rolled it up past his elbow. Other than a few scars, the skin was clear… for now. [color=f26522]“It forces me to obey orders and reveal secrets. I have limited control over my own actions when I am commanded.”[/color] A tinge of burning pain rose in his arm with the confession. Every word etched red lines under his skin—lines that slowly twisted into runes wrapping around his hand and forearm. [color=f26522]“It will kill me if I resist or disobey.”[/color] His fist clenched as the runes became inflamed, rising against his skin like welts. [color=f26522]“Or if I reveal too many secrets about the bond or my mission.”[/color] [color=D0B4EC]"Roman…"[/color] The word was just a pained whisper as her breath caught in her throat. She stared at the markings on his arm, her eyes wide at the implications of their existence. Her mind wandered back to the banquet, to his strange behavior, and suddenly it all made sense. [color=D0B4EC]"Oh, Roman, why didn’t you say anything sooner? …How long has this been happening?"[/color] She leaned forward, her hands hovering tentatively near his arm, as if she wanted to reach out, but feared the slightest touch might cause him further pain. The anguish of a friend witnessing unimaginable suffering was evident in her azure gaze. [color=D0B4EC]"To be forced… to have your will taken from you… and to endure this pain…"[/color] Her voice trembled, thick with genuine emotion. [color=D0B4EC]"It sounds like absolute torture. I can’t… I can’t imagine what you must be going through."[/color] [color=D0B4EC]"I’m so sorry this is happening to you."[/color] Her eyes shut tight and she sighed. Then she lowered her voice instinctively, as though the shelves themselves might gossip. [color=D0B4EC]"I confess… I have my own odd grievances of late as well. For starters. I have witchblood, and the hunters know."[/color] Her fingers curled in her lap, knuckles whitening for a moment before she unclenched them. [color=D0B4EC]"Until recently, I have never cast a spell before, nor did I even know I was a witch. Frankly I had no knowledge of magic’s existence prior to this week. Nonetheless, I have begun researching."[/color] Her gaze lifted to his, unwavering now. [color=D0B4EC]"The Black Rose has taken an interest in me—and I believe my father, too. I can no longer afford to be ignorant."[/color] Her posture straightened. [color=D0B4EC]"You are to tell no one. Not even our friends."[/color] The sentence was gentle, but it was not a request. [color=D0B4EC]"I am aware of the risks my actions bring, but I must find ways to deepen my understanding. I am at a place I would rather be terrified with my eyes open than comfortable with my throat bared."[/color] She paused, then her expression hardened. [color=D0B4EC]"All that to say given that I am delving into a book of the sort anyway… I will do all I can to help you break it."[/color] Her chin lifted slightly, unflinching. [color=D0B4EC]"Because I am [i]done[/i] doing nothing."[/color] He kept quiet, listening to her speak and watching her reactions. They were genuine. That was the reason he had come here. Who else could he trust to help him without using it against him? This had to work. He could see that she cared about him—not for what he was, but for who he was—and he could see by her admissions alone that she was scared. At the very least, she was choosing to act. That was something he could help her with. Something he would help her with. He understood these things: being Witchblood, being hunted, being investigated. Even working with the hunters was a chore. The mention of the Black Rose made him sit just a little straighter, though her confession did not seem to surprise him. Instead, he looked as if he were simply filing away the information. Roman nodded at her words, his gaze locking with hers, just as serious. This was a new step for her, he could tell. Her fear had turned to something more—anger, perhaps a bit of rage. But what he saw most clearly was determination: a refusal to let her life be controlled by others. [color=f26522]“If you are able to break this curse, I will owe you a life debt. The bond is made at the end of our trials—the last step in becoming an adult and a soldier. I did not choose to take the oath.”[/color] The implication was clear, but he took a moment to process the rest of what she had said. He didn’t suspect a lie. If she was trusting him like this, he would return that trust. [color=f26522]“I will keep your secret to the best of my ability. As a fellow Witchblood.”[/color] He paused to let the words sink in. [color=f26522]“How can I help you understand yourself? What questions do you have?”[/color] [color=D0B4EC]“To be frank with you, Roman… I scarcely know where to begin.”[/color] Her brows knit as if the thought itself pained her. [color=D0B4EC]“As far as I ever witnessed, my parents never cast at all and I have no memory of anything even resembling it.”[/color] Her gaze momentarily fell. [color=D0B4EC]“Tell me—your aura… is it simply purple?”[/color] A long pause followed. [color=D0B4EC]“Because mine is too, but it bears a dark outline…According to something I read, that may suggest dark magic somewhere in my history… and if that is true, then I am left with one question.”[/color] Her chin rose. [color=D0B4EC]“How do I understand why?”[/color] He nodded slowly as he processed the information she gave him. Her questions were sharp. It was clear just how far she had researched and how much she had been told. However, the last question about his aura made him sit up a little straighter. That wasn’t a topic he enjoyed discussing, but he knew he owed her the truth. [color=f26522]“A Witchblood lineage can be passed down even if a generation doesn't practice it. And who is to say that one of your parents didn’t practice before you were born?”[/color] He paused, rifling through his memory on the subject. “[color=f26522]The original Witchbloods in your family would have had a code—rules to live by. Typically, these codes forbid harmful spells, require one to be in tune with nature, and ban the use of dark magic and magic for personal gain.”[/color] [color=f26522]“My family is sworn to protect Varian and its people—most notably the Crown and its heirs. But we also must maintain a balance between our own desires and the magic that flows through the natural world. The Ninefold Path guides us in that.”[/color] He paused again, considering how to phrase his next thought. [color=f26522]“The black around the edge of your aura could be a sign of dark magic usage, but I believe that can happen whether you were conscious of it or not. Someone could have forced you to do it. That, and being a Witchblood, you are capable of casting wordless spells. That is what I was doing the other night.”[/color] He sighed heavily, looking down at his hands for a long moment before meeting her gaze again. [color=f26522]“My aura is an anomaly—something we haven't seen or heard of before. It is a thick, deep purple. But if you watch it long enough, it cracks like a pane of glass. And in those cracks, you see only an abyss of darkness.”[/color] Charlotte held his gaze, taking each and every one of his answers in. Her brows knit together once again, and by the time he finished speaking, she lowered her eyes thoughtfully. She sighed and said at last, jesting, though with a quiet wistfulness to her tone, [color=D0B4EC]“If I weren’t so scared… “[/color] She drew her knees to herself. [color=D0B4EC]“Maybe I’d suggest the idea of you and I assembling a coven and frolicking about the woods with the others—like silly little storybook witches.”[/color] He tilted his head from side to side, weighing the thought. [color=f26522]“That’s not a horrible idea. Covens are meant to build bonds—to teach, to grow, and to protect one another.”[/color] It was something he had done in the past. Technically, his family and a few of the other old Emberstone clans were all part of a larger coven. Branching out into a new one wasn't out of the question. [color=f26522]“You should see what the others say.”[/color] [color=f26522]“Maybe wait until after this trial, though.”[/color] He paused, his voice turning somber. [color=f26522]“I wouldn't want to help build something with you, only to be unable to see it through.”[/color] His gaze drifted, seeming to focus on something miles away. Charlotte’s eyes followed his trail of vision as if trying to see for herself what he might be watching. However, she chose not to question the specifics just yet. [color=D0B4EC]“Though the idea has its allure,”[/color] she admitted softly after a pause, and there was a wistfulness in her eyes as she said it, [color=D0B4EC]“and I can certainly see the benefit of having a circle of support… Somewhere we might educate ourselves, and speak plainly about protecting one another…”[/color] She drew off, tilting her head as her brows knit together. [color=D0B4EC]“But we are in Sorian after all,”[/color] she continued, lowering her voice without quite meaning to. [color=D0B4EC]“With hunters about, I fear a coven here would become less a sanctuary and more a target.”[/color] Her gaze dipped for a moment. [color=D0B4EC]“A prominent hunter visited me the day after the tavern attack. He stood in my foyer, with a woman in chains at his side, paraded like some [i]obedient pet[/i]”[/color] There was disgust in her voice and a visible grimace forming on her features. [color=D0B4EC]“He made it very clear what he will do if he decides I am more than a harmless girl who keeps her head down.”[/color] She then sighed, stretching her palms out on her thighs. [color=D0B4EC]“...And given how severe the consequences seem to be for magic casting… It is not something I would ever encourage another soul to undertake lightly—if at all.”[/color] He let himself lean against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as he listened to her speak. [color=f26522]“That is true. It would be fraught with danger… but what isn’t these days? On the surface, Varian is just as bad; the witch hunters are based there.”[/color] He paused for a moment, letting the different possibilities and outcomes filter through his mind. [color=f26522]“The only reason I'm allowed to use magic the way I do is because it gets the job done.”[/color] [color=f26522]“I think, despite the dangers and the consequences, I'd much rather burn than watch my friends be consumed by magic. It is not a… peaceful way to go.”[/color] He sighed, his gaze drifting back to her. [color=f26522]“When the time comes to break the bond, we will need a lot of help—both physical and magical. I will try to run. I will fight. I will be forced to do whatever I can to protect the bond. I just hope I can find a way to give you more information about it before then.”[/color] He trailed off, offering her a sheepish smile. [color=f26522]“I know you have your own burdens weighing you down, and it's not just magic. But I make this oath to you: I will help you to understand yourself and to protect yourself. And just know that if everything goes to shit, I have the resources to smuggle you out of the kingdom if you need it.”[/color] [color=D0B4EC]“I understand your sentiment,”[/color] Charlotte replied softly at first, her voice composed. [color=D0B4EC]“And I am grateful for it. Truly. I promise you, I am committed to helping you break this bond—no matter what.”[/color] Yet even as she spoke, something in her demeanor began to fracture. She drew in a breath, one hand lifting to her chest as though she might steady the storm gathering there, before letting it fall again, fingers trembling faintly. [color=D0B4EC]“I only…”[/color] Her voice faltered just briefly, before she forced herself to go on. [color=D0B4EC]“I cannot continue as I am.”[/color] She rose from the couch without quite realizing she had done so, pacing a short distance before stopping, arms folding tightly around herself as though she were holding herself together by sheer will. [color=D0B4EC]“I would rather learn to wield this magic than remain a bystander to suffering,”[/color] she said, the words gaining strength with each breath. [color=D0B4EC]“I want to become someone who can protect the people I love.”[/color] [color=D0B4EC]“During the tavern attack, I was helpless,”[/color] she continued, [color=D0B4EC]“Lord Edwards was tortured because of my failures.”[/color] She pressed her palms briefly to her temples, as though the memories were too loud. [color=D0B4EC]“And I did not do enough to prevent my mother’s death…”[/color] she whispered. [color=D0B4EC]“Nothing that mattered.”[/color] Her gaze lifted then, fierce despite the tears. [color=D0B4EC]“I am [i]sick[/i] of being powerless.”[/color] The words rang with ferocity. [color=D0B4EC]“ I refuse to be preserved like porcelain while the world burns around me.”[/color] Her hands clenched at her sleeves. [color=D0B4EC]“If learning this art costs me comfort… safety… even my life…”[/color] she said, voice trembling, [color=D0B4EC]“then so be it. I would rather fall beneath a hunter’s blade having fought, than wither away having done nothing.”[/color] [color=D0B4EC]“That hunter from the banquet visited me the morning after that night…”[/color] she murmured. [color=D0B4EC]“I was not wearing my locket at the banquet and my aura was witnessed by them.”[/color] A fleeting smile unbecoming of their conversation flickered across her lips. It was not of happiness but [i]of relief.[/i] At least it had been her. At least it had not been Olivia. [color=D0B4EC]“I cannot bear the thought of him standing before anyone else as he stood before me,”[/color] she admitted. [color=D0B4EC]“Standing there deciding whether it was worth it to [i]permit me to go on living[/i].”[/color] Charlotte nearly spat the last words in disgust, her voice quivering with emotion. [color=D0B4EC]“I know this path may destroy me, Lord Ravenwood,”[/color] she said quietly. [color=D0B4EC]“I am not blind to that truth.”[/color] She held his gaze without flinching, as though her will alone could keep the world from swallowing them both. [color=D0B4EC]“But I have already made my peace with it. If my end must come,”[/color] she finished, steady at last, [color=D0B4EC]“then let it come knowing I protected those precious to me.”[/color] He did not dare say a word to interrupt her; he just listened and let her speak, waiting patiently for her decision—her resolve—to make itself known to them both. She did not disappoint, and once again, he found himself smiling. Witnessing this side of her, he realized just how far she could go. This anger and passion could stir others into action, if she could maintain it. Roman didn't speak for a few moments. He wanted her declaration to hang in the air, allowing her to truly absorb it. He needed to absorb it, too. [color=f26522]“What you're feeling right now—this resolve, this anger, this rage... keep it and use it,” [/color] he finally said. [color=f26522]“Thank you for being open with me. Killian is an issue, and I will be honest with you: I have worked with him before to hunt down a coven of necromancers. However, I assure you that I only hunt witches who use their power to destroy the lives of others.”[/color] Charlotte’s brows lifted with surprise and she adjusted her positioning as if to deal with her discomfort that way. [color=f26522]“That is a story I can tell you another time, if you wish. For now, let's focus on what it is to be a Witchblood and how you can protect yourself. If you can't protect yourself, you can't protect others.”[/color] He turned toward her. His voice was stern, naturally adopting the tone of a teacher—a tone he had found himself using more and more often since coming here. [color=f26522]“A Witchblood is the result of generations of powerful magical bloodlines intermingling and practicing magic throughout their lives. One or both parents can pass it down.” [/color]He paused, thinking for a moment before continuing. [color=f26522]“Every family line has specific rules, but most can be summarized simply: do no harm, keep the balance, don't use magic for personal gain, and remember that a cost must always be paid. There are other rules, but that is the gist of it. Breaking them can inflict a curse upon the Witchblood, the specifics of which I am not entirely sure.”[/color] Charlotte thought of her father, and the strange manner she had been receiving his memories. Her mouth tightened into a thin line as she considered that at the very least she was certain he had been aware of their family history. She supposed she couldn’t have faulted him for hiding that from her at the tender age she last saw him. [color=D0B4EC] “... What do you suppose your family rules are?”[/color] She finally asked after some thought. Roman tilted his head to the side in thought, then shrugged. [color=f26522]“All of them? Why not.”[/color] [color=f26522]““The Nine-Fold Path we follow consists of rules and guides to keep a witch on the right path, ensuring they will not be consumed by their power. My family itself has several specific rules.”[/color] He paused for a moment, his expression thoughtful as he pondered how best to continue. Charlotte nodded once. The words “consumed by their power” did not leave her mind, and she could not help the brief glance down toward her hands. [color=f26522]“[i]The Vow of Iron: the raven's wings shield the throne; it must never seek to sit upon it.[/i] That one is a bit obvious. We pledge ourselves to protect the crown, and our magic must not be used against it. In return, the crown will always shield us from the sun."[/color] He paused for a moment, then continued. [color=f26522]“[i]The Law of Breath and Bone: magic may bend the world, but it must never cheat the grave.[/i] We cannot bring back the dead in any capacity. The only exception I know of is through a ritual where you enter their realm—you never bring them back here.”[/color] [color=f26522]“[i]The Law of the Roots: you cannot reap without sowing; the earth is a partner, not a well to run dry[/i]. This one has varied interpretations, but we all agree it is about maintaining the balance between our magic and the influence it has on the natural world.”[/color] [color=f26522]“[i]The Law of the Vessel's Toll: the body is a conduit, not the source. One must bear the toll upon themselves and within themselves for using magic.[/i] I'm not sure if that one is as much of a rule as it is an unavoidable fact. Our magic will always have some kind of physical manifestation, as well as other payments.”[/color] With a heavy sigh, he continued. [color=f26522]“And finally, there is [i]the Law of the Ember. The flame burns hottest when contained; expose it only to burn out the rot.[/i] Our family dictates strict covertness. Magic is never to be used as a tool of spectacle, convenience, or pride. It is only meant to fulfill a duty, protect the crown or the coven, or hunt the corrupted. We've found that protecting ourselves counts, too, and doing small things that advance our goals doesn't seem to trigger the curse either.”[/color] At that, something woke up behind her blue eyes. She thought of King Edin, of the Church, of witch-hunters parading their righteousness through the streets, and she felt her jaw tighten. Charlotte could understand restraint, could even respect it, but she also knew what happened when power belonged only to those bold enough to use it publicly. He paused again, his gaze returning to her. [color=f26522]“Does this answer your question?”[/color] The fire crackled from the hearth as her heart beat too fast for how still she sat. [color=#D0B4EC]“Yes,”[/color] she said quietly, voice steady. [color=#D0B4EC]“It answers it.”[/color] After a sigh, she added, [color=#D0B4EC]“I think… it is important that I learn my own family’s rules.”[/color] she added, eyes flicking down for a brief moment as if she could feel the weight of her locket even through fabric, then returning to Roman with resolve. [color=#D0B4EC]“Because if there is a toll, I would at least rather know what price I am to pay.”[/color] She stood then, smoothing her skirt with hands. [color=#D0B4EC]“Thank you for trusting me with this… For all of this tonight. ”[/color] Charlotte said softly. [color=#D0B4EC]“I promise I will do all I can for you, dear friend… We shall meet here going forward for further discussions.”[/color] [color=f26522]“And lessons on our magic.”[/color] he added with a nod. [/color] [/hider]