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A clock face ticked, branches swayed, and bones feel weary.
"Counter, you must learn to count by something else." The Fiend said,"Counter, if you are lost still by December's time..."
"...if your days have not yet been reckoned with you, scattered as they are..."
"...I will be there to ask of you the sum."
"Beware unchanging things," they said, "and beware me."
They stayed with you until you could stand again, and drifted into the night.
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It's those words, now, that you recall -- that is, regarding the state of unchanging things.
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