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... entices," East began, his voice flowing like a spring breeze—soft yet impossible to ignore. It carried a rhythm, a melody without words, as if nature itself had composed it. Every movement he made was fluid, effortless, like a petal drifting on the wind.

Silvermist had expected warmth from him, a gentleness that matched the image of a Spring Guardian. And yet, when his cerulean eyes swept over the apprentices and met hers—just for a second—something shifted.

It was only a brief m ...

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