"I can sense the power in this one," he says, gesturing at my sister. "This one has little." Brynhild nods. "Correct." "Then why would the gods have chosen her?" They are talking about me like I'm not standing right in front of them. I open my mouth to say something, to defend myself, to pitch myself, even, but nothing comes out. They're right—I have hardly any magic at all. "Tell them why the gods chose you." That voice enters my mind again, and I snap my eyes to Erik. He is still staring at me. I don't know why the gods chose me. I'm not even sure the gods did choose me. What in Yggdrasil
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