The remote location of the ancient stronghold had bought them time. The wraith had scraped a semblance of a life in the Hibernal Wastes. Not the existence they were accustomed to, but a small fraction of normalcy. As normal as the wretched could get. To everyone’s surprise, a substantial number of offspring were born after they established themselves in the keep’s safety. The wraithlings had shifted their focus away from simply surviving; his people now had something to live for—a future to prepare for. Their numbers had increased fivefold over the past eighty years of freedom. Two thousand
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