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... and he sat up. He conjured simple water magic, cleaned his hands diligently, and then rubbed his eyes. The cold wetness brought him from the dreamworld. He blinked his eyes a few times, and then slid off the bed.

“Ooh there ain’t nothing you can do; I got, I got my eye on you,” Argrave sang the chorus quietly, humming the words he forgot to the rest of the song. He went to his luggage and retrieved a pair of gloves, slipping them on. His sickness felt mostly gone. He still felt a bit we ...

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