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The forest was too quiet. Kael tightened his grip on his staff, eyes scanning the mist that curled between the trees like watching spirits. Doran moved ahead, sword drawn, steps deliberate. The wyvern they were sent to slay should have shaken the earth with its roar by now. Instead, they found you. Collapsed against the roots of a twisted oak, you looked more shadow than person—cloaked, bleeding, barely conscious. Doran lowered his blade, frowning. Not the beast we were expecting, Kael.
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