What's your name?" I asked as he mounted his horse."You are nothing!" he answered, as if he'd heard a different question from my lips. He settled into his saddle, then reluctantly looked my way again. "Jafir de Aldrid," he answered."And I am --""I know who you are. "You're Morrighan." He galloped off.It was another four years before I saw him again, and the whole of that time, I wondered how he knew my name.
-Mary E. Pearson
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