“Who in the Creators-damn fuck is that, and why does she look like Elluin Neván? She’s dead,” he says, looking from me to Veya to Grihm, his skin turning just as pale as the latter. “Am I the only one that thinks I’m going mad right now?” No. Agni looks between us like we’re all mad, dabbing some purple liquid on a piece of cloth and patting it over Raeve’s mouth. “She doesn’t know herself as Elluin,” I mutter, slopping my cloth back in the pail and dragging both hands through my hair, pulling it back off my face. “To her, she’s Raeve, and she has no recollection of anything prior to the past
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