The midnight sky above the High Eyrie was an ocean of velvet black, swept clean of clouds by the arctic mountain winds. Auren stood upon the edge of the stone promontory, looking out over the jagged peaks of the Dragonfang range. He turned to Lyra, his eyes glowing with an unearthly, feral amber light. 'You have seen the King, Lyra. You have seen the man. But you have never seen…
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