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... r. Shaking his head, he muttered,
"Damn it… still not ready for flight."
Countless attempts had gone into mastering this ability, but each had ended with him hurtling back to the ground. All the motivational nonsense Argint fed him—about desperation forcing one to succeed—felt hollow now. He was being hunted by a coven of furious witches, and he still couldn’t fly.
With Marian clutched tightly in his arms, her blindfold still in place, Alicarde leapt from tree to tree, hi ...
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