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... lf, reflections dancing against the mirrored camp’s air, their forms wavering.... uncertain, shifting. The crackling wood gave a slow, rhythmic sound, almost a silent whisper, as if the hollowed flames themselves breathed in the heavy quiet that settled between them.

Hela exhaled softly.

She leaned back, the motion fluid, calm m, unhurried, as if she had all the time in the world to do anything. Her fingers traced the rim of her cup, slow, absent. Then, with a quiet breath, she b ...

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