Emris Winters has been around a long time, long enough that she no longer even lets her cousin use the name she was born with. Long enough that she *shouldn't* still be here.
A budding necromancer has discovered her particular vulnerabilities.
Emris is still sane despite the centuries, but she's starting to regret that.
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(A short story of about 4,100 words,
plus an excerpt from the novel _Destiny's Kiss_.)
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