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“If that was true, Grace wished she could fix it. Whatever ancient Gods she'd angered she wished to make amends. Whatever her curse, she wanted nothing more than to break it. But Grace had no experience in going against ancient deities or shattering dark magic, and ultimately, she was unconvinced that someone like herself would ever be strong enough to cause a single ripple in the bounds of her own world.”

“Her Aunt Rose lightly grabbed hold of True’s hand and kissed the back of her palm. “She loved you more than anything in the world and you did her. Just the way it is supposed to be. She never expected to be gone, you know. She dreamed of seeing you grow up. She was the only person I know that would get excited about growing old. I wish I could tell you that the hurt stops, but I can’t. Although, as impossible as it seems, one day it will hurt a little less.”

“My goodness. Humans are quite noisy, aren't they?" A voice called as Morgan's eyes were drawn to the large brown circles blinking back at him, floating in midair. "These two also don't seem to have a very good sense of judgement either. So quick to pick a fight rather than showing kindness. Such a shame. What wasted potential." The voice filled the air as the silhouette bobbed into view again. It slowly took on a human-like shape.”

“She didn't say so aloud, but True thought that maybe all the things she started to forget as the days passed by were only a dream away. She believed that maybe with her photo near her head, it would attract her memories of her mother like a wish to a well. That if she were lucky enough, every night those photos would make the memories of her mother that much harder to forget.”

“His father often mentioned young and old. He'd said it was to remind himself to put things into perspective. To remember that he was starting to age. His black curly hair, which he passed on, had begun to gray Ironically, his mustache had beaten his hair and beard to it, losing all of its black sheen in favor of silver. Even his eyes seemed a little less blue as the days went on. Even though he knew his father was aging, in moments like those, as he smiled showing him a photograph of a bright light in the shape of a person, he often thought his father was younger. He could look past the slight wrinkle of his skin and the color of his veins that he couldn't see a year before.”