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... except for the soft rustle of moss under shifting feet and the distant hum of fairy dust in the night air.

Roselyn’s leg was almost completely healed now, so I felt it was time to ask the rude question;

"Uh... What did you mean by ’my true self’?" I asked her, keeping my hands steady on her shin as the last threads of bone and flesh knit together. "Did you not see your own fears?"

"Oh...?" She looked up thoughtful, her golden eyes distant for a second. "My fear? No, what ...

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