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Chapter 6: Celestis Rise
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Chapter 8: The silence before the clash
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... heaving, nearly out of breath.
"My greetings, Your Graces," he panted, bowing deeply. His trembling hands extended forward, offering a sealed letter.
"And from whom do you bring word?" asked the eldest of the Vanguards, his voice a weathered rasp that echoed through the cold, stone chamber.
"Garrik Veymar, Your Grace," the messenger replied, his voice tight with unease.
The mere utterance of that name sent a ripple through the hall. Whispers died on lips. Tension ...
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