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. "All over." She stared at Huma, her heart
pounding in her chest. Slowly, she reached out and touched
his bearded cheek with the tips of her fingers.
"None too soon," he responded gruffly. Yet, he, too, felt
a hollowness inside him because he knew what the end of
this battle would mean for them personally: a few years of
happiness at the very most and then a permanent separation,
but that was the price they must pay for the destruction of
the Dark Queen.
"You don't regret our decision, do you?" she asked him
quietly.
"Daily. Hourly. Every time I think of what we could
have had, I regret it. But it is beyond us. There's nothing we
can do about it." He turned to face her, drinking in her
beauty, a fine, light beauty, created by illusion, but a perfect
illusion that could be preserved for all time if they would
pay the price. But they could not.
She nodded, afraid to speak. Afraid of the pain that
would creep into her words. She turned away and looked at
the army of tired men who sensed that the end was near.
Tired, dirty men who had never lost their belief that Huma
would lead them to victory. Men who knew Huma would
not betray them, and who believed that - one way or another
- this day would see the end of the terrible war
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