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... red the portal, and the silence was almost overbearingly loud.
Primrose and Aetos kept looking at each other, but no one made the first move. The Spiritual Grove seemed wounded and afraid. The damage almost reminded me…of me…when I was constantly kept near death.
“I…haven’t treated you well.” Aetos was the first to finally speak. His wounded form flickered like a candle, and he hopped from her perch, approaching with a noticeable limp. Primrose flinched and squeezed my hand. I fe ...
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