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... the shoreline of Lake Cerza, Rinoa stood motionless, her gaze intense and unwavering. Her garments, still dampened by the delicate spirit dew that clung lovingly to the fabric, cascaded around her, while her hair flowed in dark waves, merging seamlessly with the encroaching shadows of night. Yet, it was her eyes that captivated the most—they were luminous orbs, radiating a depth that suggested she was perceiving Fitran not merely as a lover, but as an ancient entity, transcending the very confi ...
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