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... t cared much for sleep. The concept of night here was vague, bent around memory and the will of things older than suns. Still, he tried.

Ashveil stood watch by the broken archway, antlers gently radiating emberlight. Keir snored half-curled on a floating piece of masonry, muttering in his dreams about "sword taxes" and "boredom revolutions."

Raen leaned against the edge of a sky-root, feeling the warmth of flame-creatures flicker near his veins.

Summoning beasts from memo ...

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