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datatime: 2022-11-30 18:39:14 Author:azXTpllQ

Indeed, I was enjoying a Perfect Time. I wondered if for every immortal there was a Perfect Time. I wondered if it corresponded to the prime of life in mortals-those years when you are strongest and

I resolved to ignore this, to see what came of it, not to allow it to impede me in the slightest as I enjoyed my life.

All this his mind gave me rather easily without the young man realizing it, obviously, and then using the Mind Gift I sent a very direct message to him.

All this his mind gave me rather easily without the young man realizing it, obviously, and then using the Mind Gift I sent a very direct message to him.

I saw him visibly startled by the message. And then to my pure shock I received a distinct mind message from him:

With little difficulty I heard him make his way down the staircases through the palazzo and then I saw him come out into the canal arid hail a gondola which took him away. I had caught a good look at him as he stepped into the boat. He was a tall man, lean and fair of skin, an Englishman, and he was dressed in severe clothes of black. He was very frightened. He did not even look up as the boat took him away.

We mean you no harm. We are scholars. We offer understanding. We offer shelter. We watch and we are always here.

I stood on the roof for a long time, feeling the blessed wind, and wondering in its silence, what I should do about this strange discovery. I thought over his distinct message and the power of mind with which he'd sent it to me.

Yet in the weeks that followed I listened for this strange creature, this English scholar, and indeed, I kept a sharp lookout for him as we made our way through the usual lavish and dizzying social events.

Vincenzo shocked me.

Vincenzo shocked me.

I stood on the roof for a long time, feeling the blessed wind, and wondering in its silence, what I should do about this strange discovery. I thought over his distinct message and the power of mind with which he'd sent it to me.

What could this mean? What could this be?

Botticelli, Bianca, Amadeo-these were the loves of my Perfect Time.

It struck me with full force that there had been moments in my long life when I would have found his message irresistible, so great had been my loneliness, so great had been my longing to be understood.

But this young mortal had nothing to do with the grand society in which I moved. I knew it die moment I penetrated his mind. He was no great Venetian, no painter, no cleric, no poet, no alchemist, and certainly no member of the Grand Council of Venice. On the contrary, he was a most strange sort of being, a scholar of the supernatural, a spy upon creatures such as me.

Then he gave way to utter fear and fled the roof.

Scholars? What sort of scholars? And the other words. How very remarkable indeed.

I also went so far as to question Bianca about such a person, and to warn Vincenzo that such a man might attempt to engage him in

What could this mean? What could this be?

I stood on the roof for a long time, feeling the blessed wind, and wondering in its silence, what I should do about this strange discovery. I thought over his distinct message and the power of mind with which he'd sent it to me.

conversation and that he must be very wise on that account.

Nevertheless, it was a stunning promise, that which the young Englishman had made.We offer understanding. We offer shelter. We watch and we are always here.

Scholars? What sort of scholars? And the other words. How very remarkable indeed.

I also went so far as to question Bianca about such a person, and to warn Vincenzo that such a man might attempt to engage him in

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