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The Face Behind The Veil

I stormed into Lord Xeik’s tent with fire and brimstone visibly burning in my heart for having been deceived. The material of the canvas tore again and brought me to the sight I almost stopped breathing. The interior stank of sweat and the desperation before death hung in the thick gloom.

There was a woman dressed in black standing still before me; she was fixing a thin black veil to Lord Xeik’s wrist. The material made his arm disappear as if it were a black cloak that was destined to bring in his evil end. He clung there at the top of his tent with all his strength; his face red and sweating with fear and agony.

His eyes popped out wide open as beads of perspiration glistened on his skin, his curled lips looked like a scream kept inside. His tendons flexed at his neck and the rest of his body followed the muscular attempt of him to escape.

Looking up from my chair, I saw the woman turn toward the door the moment I walked in, her eyes clearly focusing on me. Then I was startled becau
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