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... . Beneath his fingers, the surface was alive, warm despite the cold air, and humming faintly, like a heartbeat buried in the rock. He closed his eyes, focusing, letting his breathing match the rhythm. Then the vision came.
It wasn’t a clear one, just fragmented impressions: a row of stones glowing under starlight, a figure standing at the edge of the island’s cliff with arms raised high, smoke coiling from the mountain’s mouth in spirals. Then whispers in the watchers’ tongue. A phrase h ...
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