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�..."My name is Ankara. Mortals call me The Eternal, I believe." "The murderer that has been terrorizing my village for so many years." He clarified, his voice dripping with contempt. "Do not waste your strength trying to avenge them now. I am not the only cause of this, and they are lost you now. All of them, living and dead. You will forget them as they will you." "You don't intend on letting me go." "No, I cannot. Go to sleep, for now you need not worry about anything. When I return, you will feed, and you will become strong again." Ankara stood, brushing his hair from his face gently as he fell back into the deep sleep. For a moment she watched him, scanning his face and body as if she'd never seen him before. Subconsciously, she raised her hand to the opposite wrist, her slender fingers tracing a small, freshly made cut. Athos would not remember that part, as she had not. It was for the better, the moments of his death, however short they had been, would have been unbearable for a mortal human. She had seen many who had been changed who had truly died there, ones that were not meant for the gift. She had held her breath as she watched him die, hoping she had chosen well. He lived now, as alive as he would ever be again. The coming centuries would tell if her decision had been a wise one....�