The high courtyard of the Citadel of the White Dawn was bathed in the crisp, diamond-bright radiance of a cloudless mountain morning. The training yard, paved with slabs of white granite dusted in powdery snow, echoed with the sharp, rhythmic ringing of steel against steel. Mira parried a lightning-fast thrust of a silver broadsword with her twin daggers, spinning on her heel with the fluid, effortless agility of an awakened…
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