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... e reluctant to release the trees it shrouded. A damp breeze drifted through the moss-laden boughs, carrying the faint scent of loam and distant woodsmoke. Draven stood where the trunks thinned, boots planted on a crumbling root, shoulders square against the gloaming. His breath left no plume in the spring air, but every exhale felt measured—an engineer timing bellows in a forge.

He traced the horizon with a gloved finger, marking landmarks no ordinary traveler would notice: the way Ironl ...

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