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... t at once. Not because I had spoken, but because I had moved. A single gesture, just one, my hand lifted, was enough to freeze the whispers. Their eyes locked onto me, pupils dilated by the flickering light, as though I held their breath between my fingers.
— "Rise."
My voice cracked like a whip, sharp, without raising the tone. The Saint, still kneeling at the center of the hall, lifted her head. Her white hair spilled across her shoulders, her robe stained with traces of travel ...
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