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... A faint smile touched her lips as she drifted deeper into a long-forgotten memory, a flicker of warmth in her dreams.

She was a little girl again, her tiny feet pattering across the grand halls of the Dragon Palace. The air was warm, the walls glowing with the light of enchanted torches. She ran to her mother, a towering figure with scales that shimmered like molten gold, sitting on a throne of obsidian.

"Mama," Erza said, her voice small and curious, "What is this ring?"

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