Science had failed to heal him, brazenly called him insane. Perhaps it was right, perhaps not. Desperate, his people sought Elvira, the red haired. With a victorious laugh, her hand went over his forehead, stilling him as ice. Her luscious red lips, shone in the dark, praying and chanting. Echoes hung in the silence. Magic filled the night. Her pitch rose – from whispers to shrieks. Incantations gained momentum and then suddenly died down. Everything became still. Deathly still. Beyond the walls of her sanctorum, a rooster crowed in the dawn. Elvira smiled. Blind faith had won again. Science had failed.
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