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Quiet Evening

The following events were a blur, a hazy recollection of Luke's army withdrawing peacefully. The next thing I knew, I was blinking awake in my tent, wrapped in Fable's comforting warmth and familiar scent.

"Good evening," Elinore's crisp voice greeted me.

I yawned, mumbling an incoherent reply as I slowly blinked the sleep from my eyes. Everything ached, as expected, but not as intensely as I'd feared. The sunpurge was a dull throb at the back of my mind—unpleasant, but not debilitating. My soul, however...

Tears welled up as I reached for my mana. It hadn't been a dream. I was healed.

"Xiviyah, are you alright?" Elinore was at my side in a flash. "Where does it hurt? Damn it, I thought I had healed everything."

I shook my head, looking up at her with tears shimmering in my eyes. "I'm alright. It's... it's gone. My soul is healed."

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