If we hadn't been scryed, it would have been correct: stop the enemy from raising the alarm, protect us, even if it means the death of one who might only be mind controlled. The mission is greater than his life.
But we had been scryed. I feared I just wasted valuable magic, as well as the life of a potential ally, for nothing.
I must learn patience, though it takes me another hundred years.
More later. I must return to the fray.
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