Writing The Invitations

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'We have accepted you to be with eleven other people to live here for a year, your parents know me, so do not worry. There will be food, and rooms for each of your likes.' In the darkness a wide smile shows and out steps a young woman steps out in her mid twenties, black hair with dyed white hair streake. She takes her staff and hits the ground as a stone moves above her, the moon glistens down into a ruby resting on top of her staff, a hidden door creaks open.

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