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Chapter 92: A Choice
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Chapter 94: The First Drop
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... The flowers darkened, their colors bleeding into the soil as if the ground itself was drinking them dry. The air grew heavy, every breath tinged with the metallic irk of blood.
Lanard stood in front of her, his figure sharpening against the backdrop of a sky now dimmed to rust.
"You’ve seen the rivers," he said. "But you haven’t yet heard the story of the seventh."
The field dissolved into shadow. In its place rose a landscape drenched in war — banners torn and smolderin ...
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