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“There was mud in my mouth, my knees dripped blood onto the uneven pavement—little spatters of crimson rain."
On the day the god Cronus was born, it is said, the earth quaked and screamed at its core. The cliffs bordering the sea crashed together, flames shot into the open sky. Each flame carried a Seelie fairy. In their blood flowed the magic of the old worlds and the fire of immorality. The Unseelie were formed in the ashes that fell to the ground, they carried no flame and could die. The ruling gods struck an accord with the Unseelie who protested their fate: Every hundred years, a Seelie fairy must be human for three days, in that time, the Unseelie could hunt their immortal flame, and the gods would close their eyes.
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