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12: The burning north
The ringing of alarm bells in the watchtowers had continued almost ceaselessly since daybreak. Oerei felt shame weighting heavily on him, shame from hardly even paying attention to the sound anymore. He’d been woken up by it every single morning during the first week; over time he’d grown numb to its presence.
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11: Threads in the weave
Drums beat to an ever-increasing rhytmn that reverberated in the soil. Ren’i had felt it already on the other bank of the river through the thin soles of his akheri boots. The sounds of the kantele and the willow reed flute blended in with the drums; a demanding, almost a ghostly tune, yet somehow it…
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10: Scars
The glow of fireworks lit their way to the cottage. Colourful explosions left the skies above ashimmer even as they stumbled in through the door and latched it shut after them.






