"I have waited for so long, and now it seems that my mortality will be my undoing." the man, dressed only in a white bed garment said, his voice still strong even in his last hour. The little girl, hardly ten years old, standing next to his bed shook her head, while tears streamed down her pale cheeks. "It is true, my child. I shall go to the Wonderlands upon my passing, but it shall not be by the Celestial Chariot."Amars, Grand sorcerer of Sentilla, stretched out his feeble shaking hand and the little girl took it."Teacher..." she started, but the old man hushed her with a squeeze of her little hand."Elur -vith adanvantil.. enua!" Amars whispered the incantation, almost unable to say the last word. At that moment, there was a faint rattle, and an ornament the young girl had never seen before tugged at her neck as the pendant settled on her chest. She looked at the old man to inquire of this feat, but only an empty white garment remained where he had lain. His hand had turned to mist, which now wrapped itself along the length of her sleeveless arms, then branded upon her brown skin a black, winding mystical tattoo.She had been passed the reins of the Celestial Chariot.It took a moment for the young Dyvelin to grasp the enormity of the great responsibility-nay, burden-that had been conferred upon her. Softly she collapsed on the bed, clutching at the empty white garment, and wept her heart out.
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