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Sitting back in my chair, I look at my tattoo, worry churning in my gut. The black dragon that wraps around my right arm is starting to fade from the lack of magic in my body. Just before I transform, the tattoo glows red, but at this point, I am not sure I could even make the shift. I rub my arm, squeezing my eyes shut as my head pounds. I’m tired—no, exhausted. My muscles and my mind are aching for a reboot. I can’t remember the last time I’d properly slept.
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