You should not be here, little one. You do not belong. This is a place of importance, a place where Things Happen. They gather here, the men in the long dark coats. Are you afraid of them? You should be. You should shiver at their passing, feel your breath catch in their presence. These are the men that run the otherworld, that know the workings of all things. They watch the stars; they calculate the wind; they speak to the rivers. They control and manipulate and mold.

Do not be fooled, little one. Yours is one of them as well. He is a brother, a comrade, a knight on the board. They bow to his power; he is a prince among them. When he speaks, their eyes go to him. Those eyes do not see one such as you. You are a nothing; he is an everything. There is power in his fingers and dominance in his gaze. He is one of them, in blood and spirit and soul. He is a piece. He is precious. But you?

You do not belong. You are an outsider. Turn away now; close your eyes. They will spill your blood to protect him. Turn away.

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