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The prompt - Conquer
Arms pulled tight against her sides, doubt and fear dripping from her face in the form of perspiration, she crosses the stage focused on her destination. She sits upon the wooden stool, placing her fingers upon the ivory keys. One stroke at a time, she connects with the instrument, mingling and becoming the music which flows through the air, a product of her own motions. A shuffle fills the room as the crowd stands and erupts into a swarm of loud applaud. She stands and faces the audience, a smile touch her lips and a beam of delight caressing her skin.