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A Monarch's Tears and an Apology

Within the palace of the Dragon Lord, in a room reserved for the injured and gravely ill, Elder Minas lay on a bed topless. His chest was blue and the his flesh was rotting away slowly. Although he was alive, his body was dying. He who was as hairy as an ox had lost all his chest hair on the parts of his chest that still had flesh, suggesting that those areas would soon begin to decay soon enough. His exposed feet were worse off, showing signs of gangrene and his soles were littered with nodules of varying sizes.

There were only two people in the room. The first was the Dragon King Bast. His face was filled with worry as he watched his fallen subordinate moan in pain every few seconds. The second person was someone very close to the Dragon Lord. In fact, she was the person closest to him and the one he loved more than anything else in the world; for she was his wife, the Oracle of the Citadel!

“How is he?” Dragon King Bast asked.

“He isn’t doing well. The source of his injury has not
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