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... except her unwavering goodness and her innocent belief that everyone deserved happiness.

Helena was an orphan, a fragile flower growing in the cold, grey stone of an orphanage overseen by the stern yet revered Archpriestess.

From the moment she could walk and talk, it was clear that Helena’s heart was too tender, too pure for the harsh world around her. She was the type of child who would believe the best in everyone, even when they did not deserve it.

Her naivety was bo ...

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No, this is worse than hell!

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“Haven’t I suffered enough? Can’t I just rest?” I cried out. Why would I want to stay back in such a cruel world?

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