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2.18.3 I regret his loss.

Sanskrit was a language she had seen before, a language that was inscribed under Farhad's bed. The very words that influenced Farhad and drove him to his death.

Words from another world, whose origins were still a mystery to her. All she knows of that world are legends. A place considered to be a prison for those the most dangerous. A world with no magic, but existing in a different reality from her own.

This was one of the languages belonging to that world.

"Why would they be in the sewers?" Remira thought, before walking to the side of the wall and rubbing some of the algae off the wall, exposing a few more words, written at a certain distance, which would be ignored by most people.

But Remira was not one of those.

Even if she was in shock over what happened and the destruction her small little battle caused. Remira understood the importance of sacrifices more than anyone else. She won't cry or be passed from her experience.

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