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... led with the same indifferent whisper, and the moon cast the same cold, silver light. But for me, the world had been drained of its color.
I sat there for hours, clutching the silver necklace until the metal bit into my palm.
He is gone.
The thought was a physical weight, pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I wanted to scream, to tear the trees from their roots, to unleash the boundless ocean of mana he had gifted me and burn the forest to ash. < ...
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