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... on the same jagged rock I've sat on for years now. Wind screaming past my ears. Sky heavy with clouds that never rain. I wasn't cold anymore. Not physically. But the stillness? That got to me.

"Two years left," I muttered. My voice felt foreign. Older. Tired. "You think I'm ready for that tournament?"

The Trickster didn't respond immediately. He just stood behind me, arms crossed, grinning like a man who knew something I didn't.

"You tell me," he finally said.

Tha ...

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