Two weeks after the liberation of Silverpine, the Olympic Peninsula had returned to a state of sublime, tranquil paradise. The late autumn air was crisp and cool, carrying the rich, woodsy fragrance of damp cedar bark, Douglas fir, and clean mountain rain. The Blackfang Timber Fortress hummed with peaceful, productive vitality: craftsmen repaired the stone walkways; young warriors trained in the lower courtyards under Cassian's watchful eye; and the glasshouse…
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