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. "And she calls herself 'ordinary!' "
"What about you?" Trembling, the girl's hand reached
up to touch Raistlin's golden-skinned face. "And what do
you mean - I do not age?"
The mage saw fear in the girl's eyes as she asked this
question, and his own eyes narrowed, studying her intently.
"My golden skin is my sacrifice for my magic, as is my
shattered body. As for you not aging, I mean you do not age
in my sight. You see, my eyes are different from the eyes of
other men. . . ." He paused, staring at the girl, who began to
shiver beneath the unwavering scrutiny. "My eyes see time
as it passes, they see the death of all living things. In my
vision, human flesh wastes and withers, spring trees lose
their leaves, rocks crumble to dust. Only the young among
the long-lived elves would appear normal to me, and even
then I would see them as flowers about to lose their bloom.
But you - "
"Raist!" Caramon boomed from below. There was a
crash. Endeavoring to shake off the gully dwarf - who was
holding his hands firmly over the big man's eyes, blinding
him - Caramon tripped, and fell headlong on a table,
smashing it to splinters.
The mage did not move, nor did the girl. "You do not
age at all! You are not elven," Raistlin said
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