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February 28, 2011
The other, dressed in a blacksmith’s apron, held a glowing pair of tongs and a massive hammer.

“Why must you make me choose?” Dan cried, only when he did, it was in the anguished voice of a woman, but… somehow more than a woman. He fell to his knees, the folds of his diaphanous lavender gown billowing around him. He raised his slender, bejeweled hands to his face to cover his tears. They fell to the dusty ground. “Must it always be like this?”

“You cannot have us both,” the armored man said, “even if you are a goddess."