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The mirror was just as breathtaking as the day of its creation, silver and ash working in perfect harmony. However, it was larger than Anessa remembered. When Rothe had created it, it fit on a ten foot table in his workroom. Now it easily was the height of two men standing on top of each other and two abreast.
Anessa gently ran her hand along the edge of the frame. The entire thing hummed with power under her finger tips. It grew warm, and Anessa pulled her hand away in fear it would burn her as it had the King that fateful day.
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