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... face. The cavern smelled of ozone and crushed granite, and the resounding noise of our training was still ringing in my ears.


Bairon leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees, sweat dripping from his nose, each breath laborious. Twenty feet to his left, the little one, Mica, threw herself on her back, huffing and puffing. Only Varay stood straight, her arms crossed as she eyed me thoughtfully.


“This was better, yes?” I asked, going back through in my mind each sta ...

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