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At The Threshold Of Dreams
by
Glass Hammer
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“Mortally wounded, the beast lurched away in retreat Yet this was a creature wrought of sorcery Even as the thing mewled in final torment it cast a spell, then sank back into Pagarna's stygian depths I barely managed to pull myself out of the water before I swooned and for a time knew no more Then I dreamed I was speaking with a creature of light An angel, or was it the sword? Far from the city, at least now I could dream again”
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