Ilayda

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The snow on the high mountaintops had not yet given up to the spring sun, but the hill was dotted with patches of flowers. Among them, I came across a shiler, the crown imperial lily, a rare beauty. The petals faced downward, and a crown of small leaves sat proudly on top of each stem. Red poppies burned bright under the sun and danced with the breeze. They urged me to hold on a little longer.
Daughters of Smoke and Fire
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