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ONE HUNDRED SIXTY-TWO: Grand Presentation
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ONE HUNDRED SIXTY-FOUR: Echoing Klerms
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The child who lived in the dome by the river was trying to decide what kind of beautiful the day was. He squatted a couple of steps from the wide silver band of the water, dark sand squishing between his toes.
Beautiful. More beautiful. Or most beautiful?
He splayed his small fingers, patting the stone he had just warmed with magic before flopping over in the soft sand to lay his cheek against it. That way he could feel the heat with his face, too.
He had learne ...
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