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... d, existed in tranquil reverence to the mistress of this island.

One hand raised, the other pressed to her chest, Undine swayed to the rhythm of her own song. Every note was a crystal reverberation, echoing between trees with the purity of a piano key. All chose to listen, from the birds that sat among the trees to the water spirits sitting in the surrounding soil.

John did not choose to listen. He was too captivated by her beauty, too taken by the moment, to be given a choice. S ...

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