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Ah, the purloiner of Cinders... It seems that once more you have sort to disturb our grave. You remain keen in your unrest, for that much is clear.
Tell me, Ashen one... What is it you desire? Has the flame still yet to die, fade into ash and dust? Or have you woken my brother and I for more, selfish a purpose?
We have little interest in games Unkindled one... Let us rest here, in the silence of darkness. For no good can come of our presence, our curse, our grief...
It brings nothing but death and revival. A never ending cycle of magic and flame. What use have you for such things now? Our soul, our life is that of chosen solitude and exclusion... To now be of light is a foolish notion.
But then... You always were foolish in your ways, Ashen one.
Tell me, Ashen one... What is it you desire? Has the flame still yet to die, fade into ash and dust? Or have you woken my brother and I for more, selfish a purpose?
We have little interest in games Unkindled one... Let us rest here, in the silence of darkness. For no good can come of our presence, our curse, our grief...
It brings nothing but death and revival. A never ending cycle of magic and flame. What use have you for such things now? Our soul, our life is that of chosen solitude and exclusion... To now be of light is a foolish notion.
But then... You always were foolish in your ways, Ashen one.