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... , the quiet and gloomy scenery reflecting the somber atmosphere that enveloped her. She wore simple clothing—a dark cloak that no longer reflected the hellish glyphs, symbols that once represented her power. The gray wings on her back no longer fluttered; they rested, mirroring the uncertainty she experienced.
Down there, Fitran was talking to a small child, providing fragments of simple concepts about loss and forgiveness; the child—for the first time—was not afraid of the Voidling, sig ...
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