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... remains, silence surged through Fyrhaal like a tidal wave. No wind. No roar. Just the stillness of a breath caught in time.

Elara ran to him, sliding on the fractured runes that burned hot beneath her boots. The sigil burned into Ryon’s chest pulsed with golden fire—intertwined with cold blue veins of frost, warring inside his skin. His body convulsed, torn between two ancient forces that should never have met.

"Hold him down!" Elara cried. Shaera and Kaela pinned his arms as he ...

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