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... . "I think it always does. It just needed a name to sing."
And the island did sing. Not in notes or chords, but in light and warmth. A shimmer lifted from the moss itself and drifted through the air like golden mist. It caught in their hair, kissed their shoulders, softened every edge. The petals of the great flower in the center of the clearing began to shift once more, drawing back as if listening.
All around them, the new dreamers had begun to move again. Some held hands, othe ...
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