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... the passage, flames jittery and thin, casting weak halos over stone carved centuries before my first breath. This was my sanctuary—shielded by runes and guarded by silence. Even Vostyr did not know the full depth of the wards wrapped around my chambers. Yet tonight, two scrolls lay on my desk, defying that secrecy.
One bore the stark seal of General Vostyr—black wax etched with a wolf's jaws. A curt demand: tighter control, harsher oversight. Mages across Valaroth were to have their ever ...
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