Quiet steps in the dusk were heard as the witch, Gwynedh, slipped down the dark streets of the sleeping city, only a few individuals left who still lingered in the streets as they finished the day's work and bid farewell. The sun had already come down in the west, and the night had begun to fall, leaving Gwyn what little pleasure she might gain in this world that pained her so diligently. But not all was well...
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Acaeleus
