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... elves and the scent of old parchment. Across the room, Mozrael sat at a table, deeply engrossed in a book. He hesitated at the entrance, observing her for a moment. There was no flicker of acknowledgment, no glance in his direction—just the steady turn of pages. She was too engrossed in what she read.

He debated calling out to her, but before he could decide, a familiar voice chirped behind him.

"Aramith! You’ve been hiding here all morning." Kesha appeared beside him, a playful ...

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