The city has witnessed great devastation at the hands of various enemies, yet its scars appear to be superficial. Everywhere I look, I see the changed expressions of the Natives. Their once resentful stares now foster gratitude and warmth
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[He sits in his library, upon a gray chaise lounge, his Forge held in the hand resting upon the arm of the furniture piece.]
Very little ever does.
[His smile would be suggestive of ruin for those that know him well enough. For those that do not, it is a blank smile, as difficult to read as fresh fallen snow, yet unmarred by footprints.]
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[Raphael shrugs, absentmindedly running his hand through his hair.] Hatred tends to.
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That is wholly dependent upon the nature of hatred. I will not dispute the fact that some emotions have the strength to transcend time itself, but precious few are so powerful. More often than not, hatred dies with its bearer, and just as easily.
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