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. One of his most powerful and potent devices,
the "wish" scroll that he had held in reserve for so many
years, was gone, shriveled to ashes and blown away by its
own magical wind. Its power was unquestionable, un-
doubtable, but still it had failed. Pitrick had left no loop-
holes for the mystical powers. Yet the scroll was consumed,
the toll on his life span taken, and Perian was most defin-
itely not at his side.
"I have been a fool!" moaned Pitrick aloud in his empty
chamber. "And worse, I have been a blind, manipulated
fool. I have squandered one of the most potent magics
known and gained nothing.
"How could I allow this to happen? How could this frawl
become such an obsession?" With his face buried in his
hands, Pitrick limped around the chiseled and polished desk
and up several steps toward the chamber in the right corner
of the room. His gaze was falling on another place, another
time, perhaps another world. He didn't need to see
anything - the details of the room were clearly and perfectly
fixed in his mind. Without as much as glancing at his sur-
roundings, he stopped and collapsed into the seat by the
hearth, propping his elbows on his knees
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