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Chapter 85: The Solace of Winter
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Chapter 87: From the Night They Came
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... y by the hearth’s low glow.
The hall lay hushed save for the soft pull of Brynhildr’s needle. She sat near the embers, weaving thin silver runes into a child’s tunic, her breath calm and even.
Across from her crouched the skraelingr thrall. Young by human eyes, yet her dusk-dark gaze held the patient weight of old snows and long forests.
Her hair fell in thick braids, and her hands rested light on her knees; a poise born not of training, but of some deeper stillness.
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