Solo Amidst the Ashes

Even freedom has its price

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

Amidst the Ashes

Postby Elias Caldera on May 31st, 2015, 6:15 am

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12th of Spring, 515 AV

Will he live?

The woman sighed through a fresh cloud of smoke, a sickly-sweet haze of honeydew tobacco billowing forth to obscure her scowling features. Having lived in Ravok most his life, it wasn’t the first time the mage had endured the familiar stench, and with his recent auristic hunt through the medical wing relying solely on the pungent odor he had been told to follow by the other nurses in order to find this one in particular, he felt he had become more than little acquainted with the cheap brand of ditch weed favored by the laborers who worked the lakeside harbors. With it now assaulting his nostrils directly however, the mage wasn’t sure he would survive the encounter, much less walk away with his senses still intact enough to carry out his task.

He stifled a cough as he considered more closely the one who tormented his nostrils so.

She was a tired woman, one with more than a few greying hairs marring the ebony of her disheveled bun. The pipe between her lips had been chewed upon for what must have been years considering the sorry state it was in, and with each nervous crunch between her teeth, the countless wrinkles sprawling out from the corners of her sullen, sunken eyes seemed to expand and contract like a casinor’s deck rigging pulled taught. The pallor of exhaustion was on her as thick as the smoke was, and it didn’t take an aurist to tell that she worked herself too hard in this place.

Soon, Elias mused somberly, she too would likely fill a bed here at the Healing Hand.

Now what would a… gentleman like yourself want with young Quincy?” She asked, finally turning to meet his dull gaze.

I merely wish to see the boy.” Elias answered with a stiff, unpracticed shrug. “I had no luck finding his uncle Kain at docks, nor the ferry they work on, but I heard from other the men there that the two of them had recently taken a turn for the worst.” The nurse eyed him tellingly, as if seeing through his lies the moment they left his serpent’s tongue, but after considering it for a moment, Elias knew all too well what she was really thinking. The way he must have sounded, voice rasping and waning like it was -Hell, the way he must have looked, shoulders sagging and arms trembling with every chill wind that brushed by. Even to himself, Elias seemed a perfect candidate for a guest residence here at the hospital, but he ignored the obvious irony of his situation and pushed on with his inquiry. “I’ve only known Kain and Quincy for a few seasons true, but I’d like to consider the three of us good friends. Would it be possible for me to see the child, to see if he’s alright?

It had been two days now since Elias had begun his investigation into Redd’s disappearance from Ravok. Her vanishment had been unsurprising to say the least, yet had still served as one more cruel layer heaped upon his mountain of suffering none the less. With so many seasons lost in the dark, dank depths of his desolate dungeon, why Elias had ever expected to find the naïve kelvic waiting for him upon his release was anyone’s guess. Without a master, he knew the feral girl would not have survived for long, and his all too abrupt departure from her world would have no doubt left the wolf in a pitiful tailspin. Worst yet, it would have meant she was at the none existent mercy of a city she had never truly had the chance to call home.

Even with all that said, there were so many things to do now that he had been freed, so much penitence to complete for his masters, so many wrongs that he needed to make right… and yet this is what he had chosen to focus on. To Elias, finding his lost slave was all that had preoccupied his thoughts these past few days he’d been able to actually walk again and escape the sweat drenched bed of his lodgings. As soon as he’d been strong enough to do so, he’d set himself to the task of interrogating everyone and everything in the pursuit of the sole answer he sought...

Where is she?

Why does it matter? A sullen, empty voice asked from somewhere at the back of his mind, but there was no answer, no response, only the palpable contentment of a broken man desperate for the welcome distraction this prolonged hunt provided.

Maybe Elias was looking for Redd because he truly missed her, or maybe Elias was looking for Redd because he simply missed himself.

I’m afraid he’s too weak to see visitors.” The nurse insisted with another choking sigh, “In truth, his condition worsens by the day. I don’t know what to make of it. He came here with a flu toward the beginning of the season and despite our best efforts, he only seems to get worse.” Elias frowned, thoughts drifting distantly to what he had uncovered from witnesses and peers back at the docks. It was the same story all over again, this time with only a smidgen of more insight. It was hardly worth his time.

He nodded, hiding his annoyance behind the wince of pain even such a mundane action had caused. His body was still so weak, so unprepared for the demands his newly reforged mind was all too eager to place upon it. He reminded himself he had to be careful, at least for a little while longer.

I understand,” he said at last, “What of Kain, then? His companions could not tell me where he lived, only that he may be a patient here.” She seemed frustratingly reluctant once more, even turning back to the bed of the quietly groaning dock worker she had been tending to before, but Elias caught her shoulder and spun the old woman to face him.

There was a moment then of resistance, of wary and weary eyes going wide in shock, but Elias simply smiled.

Without warning, a lash of hypnotic djed struck out from his eyes and latched onto her’s. In an instant her aura was overwhelmed and invaded by an invoked sense of calming relief. Something comforting and steadfast told her to take faith in the man now gripping her arm so feebly. Yet, at the same time the forlorn and pitiable look in his icy blue orbs spoke volumes of his genuine worry. Was it so wrong then for him to inquire about a friend? Did he not deserve to at least know he was alive? The magic worked its magic, intertwining and infesting thoughts until they mirrored those of the man who sought to twist them.

Oh… fine.” She relented at last. “Kain lives down on Harrow street, near the waterfront if I recall correctly. He’s been the only family the boy’s had since his parents passed away. Find him and bring him here if you can. They should be together.

Gratitude.” Elias said to her, smoothing out the wrinkles his calloused fingers had made on her dress. “What you’re doing here is truly a sacred service to Ravok, I’m sure with you at their bedside your patients will be back on their feet in no time.

Thank you,” she replied, smiling thinly as the hypnotic residue loosened its grip on her contorted thoughts, “You’re kind to say as much.

Without a word, Elias bowed and departed the infirmary, leaving the dead and dying as far behind as his failing feet could carry him. He could spend not a tick longer in that hellish place, with its infirm and decrepit prisoners surrounding him from every side. It reminded him too much of himself; of what he had been, what he still was, and what he had almost become. He knew, despite the bold faced lies he had uttered so convincingly to the nurse, many of her patients would indeed die, and Elias Caldera couldn't help but wonder if they were the lucky ones.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 9th, 2017, 7:58 pm, edited 6 times in total.
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Elias Caldera
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Amidst the Ashes

Postby Elias Caldera on June 30th, 2017, 6:34 pm

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Once outside the infirmary, Elias set about hobbling his way not to Harrow Street, but instead towards a small detour he knew would take him to his next destination sooner. Even after his ordeal, the natural born Ravokian still knew his city like the back of his hand, and there was one more stop to make before his date with Kain was to come to past.

As he walked however, the young soldier couldn’t help but notice how he was earning himself more than a few sidelong glances from those he passed. The rich, sovereign black of his attire shrouded his form in the mid-afternoon light, and the fading sun caught the silver pommel of his sword brilliantly as it bobbed along over his shoulder. It had been a long time since he felt the touch of anything other than ratty rags and bloody manacles, let alone the svelte grace of proper silk and cotton or even steel that wasn't chaining him to the wall.

Pathetically, it showed.

The clothes belied the man who wore them, and Elias felt it with every strained step.

Unfortunately, the trip was too short to justify wasting mizas on a ravosala ride, regardless of how loudly his legs ached in protest. Thank Rhysol then it wasn’t long before he managed to reach his target and an insincere smile curled across his face. He slowed to wave down a local sitting by his lonesome outside the quiet bar he’d been looking for.

Hail” he called out, greeting the man awkwardly. “Do you have a moment to spare?” The young man looked up in turn, startled from his carving and almost snapped in anger, but the sword at Elias’s back seemed keep his tone in check. Instead he forced a hasty smile that the mage recognized as all too familiar in its falsehood, before the knife and wooden block were put aside. “What can I do for you?

I’m looking for a man,” Elias explained after carefully clearing his throat. “One who works here. His name is Rush.

It was a name the Caldera was familiar with only vaguely before this hunt had begun, but since then the memory of the bastard had been more than sufficiently jogged for all intents and purposes. Rush had been a student at the Institute of Higher Learning just as Elias had been what left like a lifetime ago now. Unlike Elias however, Rush was a Legate, a poor man’s magecrafter who arcane talents were more a sham than a proper art like his own. Naturally, a brazen Elias mentioned as much out loud to his fellow student during their class together, and as one might have concluded, Mr. Rush found his insight less than amusing. In fact, the two of them had nearly gone to blows over their opposing ideologies if the mage remembered correctly. Thankfully for the Institute and its many priceless pieces of equipment, the two fledgling wielders of the arcane were interrupted by their instructor before they had a chance to go flinging any spells at each other.

How Rush played a part in Redd's disappearance was still unclear, but luckily Elias had still had the good sense to question more than just those who would have likely seen Redd leaving Ravok. Dockworkers and ferryman were a good start to see who had entered and departed the city, but the Caldera's training and experience as a apprentice taught him there were other means in which to find someone within Ravok's winding canals. That was why he had also questioned a certain Mr. Tarsin, owner and proprietor of Tarsin’s Boarding House, one of the most popular inns in the city Elias’s home to boot. As it happened, it had also been Rush’s. The men at the docks may have given him the name of he who had transported a girl matching Redd’s description, but it had been Tarsin who had told Elias who she’d been traveling with.

Her ‘new master’ the old, fat petch had called him.

The words still rung dimly in his ears, and it was a concentrated effort not to let his fury show.

Oh, you mean Verin? Yah, sure I know ‘em.” The young man nodded, leaning back on his chair to think. “Use to work here as a bartender before the place closed down. He ain’t here no more though, in fact its jus’ me these days.” The mage gave him a quizzical look, but it was true, for a bar at this time of the day, this place was certainly a bit… dead.

Guy who use to run the place got in trouble with the Stryfe, I guess. I used to mop the floors and clean up the puke here, but now the new owner just pays me a gold a bell to watch over the place and make sure no one nicks any of the casks he still keeps stored inside. Speakin’ of which, if you’re looking for nip of something that’ll warm you right up, its only five silver for a pop insi-

You said Verin?

Elias interrupted angrily. He was growing tense, and he wasn’t sure why.

The boy paused and nodded. “Yessir.

The man I’m looking for is called Venser. Venser Rush! Are you sure you’re not mistaken? Are you certain, damn it! I need to find him! I need to her!” The mage’s sudden unrest was showing in both his tone and glowering demeanor. He was literally hovering over the young man, fists clenched and ready to pummel his face in before he even knew what was happening, let alone how he’d managed to clear the distance between them so damn fast. The underpaid guardsman reeled in terror, and it took Elias more effort than he realized to reign himself back under control and out of this unbidden bloodlust.

What the petch was that!? He screamed at himself, utterly aghast at his own actions. Elias had... lost control, there was no other word for it and the restless mage was was still staggered from the realization as much as the boy he’d nearly beaten half to death over nothing.

Rhysol protect me, yes, yes I’m sure you crazy bastard!” The young man shouted, his back now pressed firmly to the bar’s shuttered windows. “If I had to bloody guess, I’d say you’re talking about his brother. Never knew his name, I just knew he had one. Verin never did talk much about him. Fact, he never did talk much at all.

The Caldera raised a hand, an incoherent apology already bubbling forth from his cracked lips, but the boy merely flinched away. “You know what, petch this. It isn’t worth a hundred bloody coins. Go petch yourself, freak!

And with that, he was gone. Bolting down the street as a plethora of more curses and insults followed him down the empty road until he eventually disappeared down an alleyway. The Caldera couldn’t have stopped him even if he wanted to. He was simply left there, dumbfounded, staring agape at his own scarred hands, wondering who exactly they now belonged to.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on July 1st, 2017, 2:34 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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Amidst the Ashes

Postby Elias Caldera on June 30th, 2017, 6:35 pm

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Elias knocked twice.

There was an answer from within, and before long the the door creaked, opening slowly to reveal an older man standing in the entrance. He wobbled at the doorway, seemingly capable of standing only by the grace of the door frame he was clinging to. Small, bubbling boils had pushed up from his skin and it looked as if death itself was leaning on his shoulders. Despite his weaknesses, he smiled as though Elias’s visit was the most natural and welcome thing in the world.

Ah! Good evening, ser! Thank you for visiting my humble home. I-” he coughed, hacking as he held himself steady before wiping a mixture of saliva and blood on his already filthy tunic. “I apologize, young man, I’m not well at the moment. If you could stand to come in though, I’d welcome a little conversation. No one visits as much anymore, and without my nephew around, I’m afraid my home is a very quiet place these days.

Elias said nothing, his eyes wide, staring past the old man and somehow into him. He was smiling, despite his health failures, despite his loneliness, despite it all… he was smiling. The end was upon him, and still he found the poise to invite a stranger into his home...

The shock of the simple gesture alone shuddered within the mage, unsettling him deeply.

He’s gonna die. He heard that quiet little voice at the back of his mind say.

Elias did not disagree. Instead, he tried to speak, uttered only a squeak, a dry and pathetic mewling noise, before clearing his throat, coughing into his hand, and thrusting pity from his body as it curdled in knots within his stomach.

Of course.” He managed to choke out at last. “Thank you.

The inside of the home was a musty epitaph to death’s lingering presence. The smell of sickness hung heavy in the air and darkened the shadows of every corner. Elias took the seat offered to him and the old man poured him a glass of water along with a little slice from a wedge of cheese. He definitely didn’t want anything to do with either, but rather than refuse the kindness and risk the ire such an insult could invoke, he took both merrily, rolling the moldy wedge around in his hands as he considered how exactly he was going to dispose of the bloody thing without the old man noticing. 'Those who had little and still offered were not to be disrespected if you intended to stay in their good graces,' he may not have often heeded those words often, but he had learned them from his father -his true father- Caiden, and that was enough to at least keep them in mind every once in a while.

Tell me,” the old man coughed, “What brings a man of the Stryfe to my humble home? Oh, don't seem so surprised. I may not be a rich man, ser, but I've a wealth of friends in this city, and they tell me things sometimes, especially when those things concern a man searching up and down the city for an old ferryman in hopes he remembers a certain kelvic crossing the lake some seasons ago.” He seemed eager to know the news, but his words had left Elias utterly stunned and reconsidering his entire approach. “I’m not-” He began, but the sentence caught in his throat. What was he supposed to say? What exactly was Caldera now anyway? No longer a prisoner, but definitely not an equal to his brothers in black, that was for certain. He wasn’t sure if he ever would be again truth be told, but he was something… more now, that much was for certain.

Elias let out an audible sigh and leaned forward in his seat. He wished someone would just tell him what the hell he was meant to do already, but until then he would simply have to make do with whatever notion the old man had cast upon him.

I suppose you also know I went to go visit Quincy at the Healing Hands then… perhaps it would do you well to let the medics there see to your needs as well.

Ah, Quincy.” The old man smiled, holding back a sputtering cough.“Such a helpful lad. Such a good and honest lad... Unfortunately, I don’t think these old bones can quite make the journey in my state. Perhaps when I’m feeling better.

Elias was quiet for a moment, eyes narrowing in mental deliberation before he spoke again. There was much about that seemingly mundane and innocent statement that rubbed him the wrong way. In fact, a great deal about this old geezer was beginning to irk him in a familiar, instinctual sense.

You’re not a citizen, are you Kain?

The old man, even in his fevered state, froze and his smile all but vanished. That was why he had assumed Elias was Stryfe, not because he knew, but because he was trying to suss out the truth before the two of them finished exchanging pleasantries.

I… wasn’t born here no, neither was Quincy, but when I had heard my sister and her husband had passed after moving here, I dropped everything and rushed over from Zeltiva to take care of the boy, you see. Fell in love the moment I hit the docks and haven't thought about going back since. Regrettably, that's made things difficult at times, and I've not the coin to see both of us healed, ser, but I am a loyal servant and I have faith in Rhysol that he will heed my prayers and see us delivered from these tribulations soon enough. May he reign forever.

May he reign forever.” Elias echoed instinctively through gritted teeth “But if the boy recovers, and you do not?

If the great lord deems my time to come to an end, well… well then Quincy will need every copper penny I’ve got stashed away for after I’m… gone.

Elias said nothing, swallowing hard and tasting the iron tang of blood at the back of his throat. The feeling of something ominous was now leaning upon his brow, and he knew it had been something he’d had to deal with the moment he decided to roll his limp carcass out of bed this morning.

It was a choice.

The old part of him, the part from before the exile, before the betrayals and the deaths that would shake his world to its very core, stood on one end of his decision. As an apprentice, Elias would have seen this dying immigrant as little more than a disease, not unlike the one that currently ravaged the old man's body. A burrowing sickness whose very presence could spread and corrupt the sacred sanctity of his most holy city. Kain was something to be excised and tossed away, not pitied or tolerated. It would be best to simply do away with the old fool and be done with it.

On the other hand, Elias had learned a lot since those days, and despite his torturer’s conditioning making it so that even thinking about his heretical past was an agonizing ordeal, there was still sense to be found in that wisdom he had gained outside of Ravok's embrace, even if it was wisdom born of heresy. That part of him, the part that took heed of Caiden’s teachings about Viratas, told him in no uncertain terms that Kain and his boy Quincy deserved better than to die drowned in their own filth. They deserved to be together, they deserved to be a family, even if it was just for the end, because no one should have to endure such tragedy without their kin by their side.

Both sides argued with the other, neither willing to give ground in the face of such a harrowing desire for judgment, and the mage felt as if this were more than just coincidence. Was it a test then, and if so, by who? Rhysol, seeking to see if his long lost son was truly worthy of his mercy, or Viratas, curious to know if the boy still held true to his father's beliefs and the gnosis upon his arm?

For a long time, the mage was silent, the piece of cheese in his hand long since turned to mush as he unconsciously rolled it over and over again in reticent deliberation. To his credit, Kain had barely stirred from his seat, perhaps in an attempt not to illicit any further questions concerning his status or the likelihood of his survival, as both were an understandably awkward topic to broach with anyone, let alone a stranger with a sword.

You haven’t lived here long, have you, Kain?

Finally, the taciturn dirge came to an abrupt end.

The old man shook his head warily in response, his shaggy salt and pepper beard quivering lamely in the process.

In the time you have been here, I suspect you’ve been approached by men like me before. Men seeking out favors and services that make men like you uncomfortable, is that fair to say?

Kain hesitated, wiping a bit of spittle from his sagging lips. He may have been dying, but by the look in his eyes, it was clear Elias now had his full attention. “I’ve always tried to keep to myself and stay out-

“Out of trouble, out of sight, out of the way of anyone like say, the Black Sun -yes, yes, I imagined as much. It’s the only reason your sorry tale of poverty is even remotely believable considering the position your occupation affords you.” Any stryfer worth his salt -hell, any Ravokian who could take pride in calling themselves as much- knew that Ravok was a city filled to the brim with secrets, and it wasn’t just the ravosalamen who held a monopoly in its trade. Elias had learned very early on during his days as an apprentice that there were always those who kept their eyes and ears open just in case one of those said secrets happened across their paths, for there was always good money to be had in the such hushed business.

Perhaps it was pride or ignorance, or some Zeltivan concoction of both that has kept you believing you can stand above the game, above the way things work in this city, but now I am here, and so is the choice I bring.” Elias was on his feet now with sudden exhilaration, towering over Kain much like he had done with the boy at the bar earlier, but this time it was he, not his madness, that was in full control.

I will see to it that you receive the care you require at the Healing Hand. Both you and Quincy will receive the best the doctors there can provide, not just a pair of clean beds for you to quietly waste away upon. You need not concern yourself with cost, it will all be under my patronage.” He was starting to feel something familiar rousing within him, something he hadn't felt in a very long time. "Additionally, I will begin the process of seeing both you and the boy receiving your citizenship papers as soon as you are both healthy and on your feet again." A bold promise, one that he wasn't certain he could keep, but he didn't let that doubt show now that he was on a roll. "In return, you Kain, will serve me from now on. You will act as my eyes and ears along the wharves, keeping tabs on all those of interest who come and go from the city, reporting their movements to me and me alone."

Elias was certain this was something many another Stryfer or Black Sun agent had tried to press upon Kain in the past, yet how the old bastard had managed to avoid conscription into some dark servant's circle of spies was beyond him. Almost everyone in this city was in someone else's pocket in one way or another, but perhaps there was some cunning the sickness hid from the mage's usually scrupulous eyes that had seen the old ferryman free of such schemes, or maybe it was merely luck. If the latter was the case, it would appear Kain's had long since run out by now.

By some means unknown to the mage however, the sickly Zeltivan somehow found the strength to raise his rickety form out of his equally rickety old chair, arms trembling violently as he pushed himself up. He was coughing and mumbling something under his breath the entire time until he was finally vertical. "No!" He bellowed feebly through a vile spray of phlem and spittle. "No. I won't. I've kept Quincy out of this city's endless politicking and back alley dealings for this long, I won't-" A fit of coughing rocked his body then and the old fool collapsed back into his seat with a guffaw before he could even finish.

"'Won't' what, old man? See the boy get a chance to grow up? See him aspire to be more than... this?" Elias hissed, spinning about the meager and spartan room the two resided within. "I can't imagine you're the kind of man who would let his ego condemn a child who you claim to care so much for. When you die -and you will die without my help, we both know that- what do you think happens to a kid like Quincy who has no family, in a city that reviles outsiders, hmm?"

"I- I need time to think abou-" Kain gasped.

"You're out of time, old man! You've wasted it all, and you will not waste mine. Make your decision and make it now lest Dira tire of waiting for your wretched soul to come on its own accord."

There was a shuddering pause, a hesitation that tested the patience of a man who was now remembering he had little to spare for those beneath him.

"Yes, yes alright. I will do all that you ask, just please promise me you'll keep your word about Quincy." Another dazed and muddled pause. "I don't know what I should do now. Should I kneel or.... sign an oath or-"

"There will be time for groveling later." Elias snapped, a man totally transformed from the meager mewling pup who had skulked in the front door not a few chimes ago. "For now, you need only gather your things while I fetch us a ravosala back to the hospital."

Surely this was a triumph to be celebrated! He had served both halves of the tumultuous storms that raged within him, gaining both a victory for Rhysol and Viratas. The man now served the black as all were privileged to do, but now he'd also been given the chance of reuniting with his kin. Surely there was something to say for that? Naturally, the old half disagreed as it raged and roared within, accusing him of weakness and heresy, but the mage ignored it. That was the old him, a howling fool of a child who had failed because of his ignorance and unwillingness to adapt. This was a new Elias, a better Elias. One who served one god but held credence with two.

"You were right about one thing, Kain." The Ravokian said, turning to face the ferryman from the doorway. "I am looking for someone, and your first task under my benefaction will be to tell me everything you know about her, the man she was with, and most importantly...

where they were heading.
"


ReceiptLets say... 23 Gold, 4 Silver and 8 Copper for the medical bills... just off the top of my head
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Amidst the Ashes

Postby Karyk on September 4th, 2017, 12:01 am

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Elias Caldera
Skills
Interrogation: 1
Investigation: 2
Hypnotism: 1
Intelligence: 3
Intimidation: 2
Negotiation: 1
Lores
Quincy; Helpful man at Healing Hand
Mr. Rush; Man involved in Redd's disappearance
Verin Rush; Venser's brother
Kain; Dying man, non citizen, good person
NPC Contact: Kain, indebted to Elias
Miscellaneous


 
Notes and Comments
CS Checkmarked: ✓
CS Reviewed by Me: ✓
Season Request was Submitted for Grade: Summer 517
Season Thread was Started (IC & OOC): Spring 515 & Spring 515
Is that Season's expenses paid?: ✓
Eligible for grade? Yes



A fun intelligence thread, well done. Mark your post in Queue as graded.
Follow your heart, and the plot will follow.
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