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Ievarus’ feet only ever met the floor briefly for a gentle kiss before taking flight again, keeping aloft by juggling their weight with the help of the guard’s banging blade. The way their movements mingled together truly was like a choreographed dance. Ievarus was like a spore in flight, the grounded Elder Guard a reed. There were no sudden lashes
Eleventh Cycle (Mistland, #1)
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