Witch's Marsh prorsus

but could ico know the curse of it? and to himself germanicus silently thought the name, stricken from the annals of the house caesar, from all edict, from all rule, from all law, from all mention. gone out of memory in only a handful of years. "there is power in a single name as well."

but this was nothing for the seraph to hear, and so he buckled it tightly within his proverbial saddlebag. to ico he gave all his focus, speaking of things here and there as they passed in a long spate of hours toward the red-soil path leading toward the primal forest wherein the pale little nymph made his bed.