Chapter 17

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     Really? Uhm, okay, I guess.

     You walk into the woods, leaving the smoldering ruins of your home behind. Forgetting is hard, but your specialty is potions. And there's nothing to forgive if you don't remember the pain. You settle in a village by the coast, where the people are a bit more tolerant of witches, although the salty air hurts your throat.

     Two weeks passes before the tide comes. You fight, half-knowing this has something to do with what you left behind in a sweltering wood. You lose your life, and the world loses the war.

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