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Her divine throne.
A vast, shimmering construct of ever-shifting water, suspended in the sky, woven into the heavens themselves. It was not a fixed domain, nor a stagnant realm—it was movement incarnate, an endless flow that stretched as far as she willed it.
Flowua reached out, and the throne responded, wrapping around her like an embrace. The moment she sat upon it, the sky trembled, and the world below acknowledged her existence as a god.
"I am Flowua, daughter o ...
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