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... black ink of the writing ran together like liquid wax, but those words had held meaning that she could never escape.

Barbara put her hand over her mouth in surprise. "...Wow! You're so proficient in poetry!"

Fischl chuckled softly at the sound of praise, "Tis only natural for Prinzessin Der Verurteilung, The Sovereign of the Immernachtreich, omniscient and eminent judge of all the world's iniquity to speaketh the crimson of the midnight language of Gods."

Barbara nodded ...

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