The Mourning King:
Elika!
[
pleading]
The Mourning King:
Please! I did this for you. The task of our people is past. The tree grows weak.
Elika:
Are those your words, or Ahriman's?
The Mourning King:
Where was Ormazd when your mother was taken from us? Where was he in your hour of need? Elika! I am your father! I am your king!
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