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Asmo sat at a desk in a dry, dark room. She sat at this desk alongside Winic, the table sprawling with magical implements and ingredients that she didn’t understand. Beneath those objects were papers covered in haphazard scribbles, ink bleeding out onto the old table. The must within the underground cellar made it somewhat difficult to breathe, and the clutter certainly didn’t help with Asmo’s feeling of claustrophobia.

This place was his study, where he not only created magi ...

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