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The Mansion

On a clear, crisp winter night, in the time when kings ruled with an iron fist and knights still fought dragons, a weary prince drove his carriage home. With his father, the king of Myora, on his death bed, our young prince dreaded the day to come. His brother, an arrogant and selfish man, always wanted the throne. After all, he was the elder of the two, but the king said with his dying breath that Joel should be the king after he himself dies. Enraged, Yefel stormed out of the palace, vowing to take revenge on his brother, and Yefel did have friends in the world of scum and villainy to hold true to his promise. So, with all this weight on his mind, the tired Joel retired to his bed.

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The night rolled on, and our young prince was still sound asleep. But a figure as silent as the grave crept slowly up to the house. He climbed over the stone fence and slithered towards the side of the house for the front door would awaken his victim. As the man clawed his way up the wall, the dagger he had hoped to use fell from its sheath and was lost in the rain. “Well,” the assassin cursed. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt me to use my sword, but I can’t say the same for him.” When he finally reached the soon-to-be-king’s room, he took his sword, a serpentine blade as light as a feather and as deadly as a cobra with two swirling emeralds that had been enchanted to capture the souls of his victims on the hilt, sauntered up to the prince’s bed, and whispered an incantation. As he did so the emeralds glowed a toxic green. This light made the prince stir, but he did not wake. “And now, I earn my pay!” the assassin shouted as he plunged his sword into the king. There was no hope for the man as the sword plunged into his chest, ripped through his heart, and escaped through the bed. When the hilt of the weapon finally hit his victim, an eerie fog sprung from the body and the soul of Joel was stolen into the emeralds. Feeling triumphant of murdering this man in his sleep, the fiend of Yefel’s leapt from the window and landed gracefully on the lawn and returned the wicked sword to the sheath on his back. He crawled once more over the wall, but as he stood to get his bearings, a bolt of lightning fell from the sky and struck the sword, shattering the emeralds, releasing all the spirits, and electrocuting its master.

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Many years passed since the events of that night, and my electrified spirit has roamed free for millennia. Moving from universe to universe, I sought revenge on all assassins for throwing their lives away as I have. Yes, I am the one with that sword that murdered a king, the one who lost his dagger, and the one electrocuted for his transgressions. Eventually, I grew weary of my vendetta, so, I decided to inhabit a body, so I journeyed for a long while, and I eventually found a soul that quite didn’t belong among these other things like elves, humans, and… whatever that hooded guy without the face is. So I followed him through a cave and reached him when his mind was melded with others, so I manifested my self in the “dream” and lent him my powers. I could feel him become more confident and powerful as I merged with his already present powers. But, this thing was smart and lulled me into the deepest regions of his mind, and then he trapped me. At first I resisted, but I finally succumbed to him and we became one: assassin for Yefel and… Jedi? What the heck is a Jedi?



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