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... fleeting silver.

Morning light pooled across the polished floor of his chamber, reflecting off the inlaid runes like rivers of brilliance flowing over ancient stone.

He sat reclined in a high-backed chair, one leg crossed lazily over the other, the collar of his dark tunic undone. Loose. Relaxed.

The rich, earthy scent of brewed leaf lingered in the air, mingling with the quiet hum of divine resonance that suffused this mansion—his mansion—nested deep within the Crydias ...

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