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... ight it was less a tool and more a partner in crime, warm against my palm with a faint, contented pulse. The full circle of relics settled into a quiet chorus, the Heart of Glimmerfen thumping steady like a victory drum, the quill giving one last cheeky twitch before going dormant. My coat, that battered banner of bad decisions, hung lighter on my shoulders, its rips and stains earning their keep as badges of battles baked and bindings broken. I was Cecil Dreggs, the Loafbearer who’d gone from m ...
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