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... er. Just a tired horse, flanks lathered, and a man slumped low in the saddle with dried blood down one sleeve. The guards called out, but he didn't answer.

Leon was already at the gate by the time they pulled the man down.

"Name," he asked sharply.

The rider blinked through haze. "Seron. Veiren watchpost. North of Hollow Vale."

Leon took the scroll from his belt and broke the seal with one thumb.

The writing was sharp, messy. Not Isabel's.

Rift ope ...

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