A monster stands on the far shore of a glowing lake, waiting for the barge bearing his bride to return. He had stood in this very spot before, when he was a man and a king, when he played on his violin the image of a young woman through her music—her thoughts, her passions, her dreams. He had stood in this spot several times before that, greeting each bride as she made that last journey from life to death, but he never played his violin for them.
-S. Jae-Jones
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