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Then, Disaster Strikes (2/2) || Ruith

I took an interest in a book with a moss-green spine. Agriculture, it read. I tucked it beneath my arm and pulled another free from the wall. Primitive Survival. Compared to the technological and innovative way humans lived, they might consider my world primitive, but that was far from accurate. 

 

In Ophinem, we used manpower and magic to create homes and castles, to grow miles of fields that housed a variety of edible crops, and to raise lovely animals. The life we lived was not the default, but work accomplished throughout the generations to place us where we were now.

 

Not that any of the differences of our worlds mattered, for both Earth and Ophinem would be damaged after the war. And to survive in a broken world, I needed to know how to manage without the help of servants and teachers. No, I did not know how to build a home or create a fire from sticks.

 

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