As the days turned into weeks, the once quiet village of Arvel became a place of gathering for people from far and wide, drawn by the stories of Lira’s gift. She had unwittingly become a beacon for all who felt lost in their own silence, those whose songs had been overshadowed or forgotten. Lira welcomed them with her characteristic gentleness, though the growing numbers at times left her feeling overwhelmed.
One afternoon, a stranger arrived at the village, different from the others who had come seeking Lira’s guidance. He was tall and cloaked in a heavy, dark garment, with sharp, piercing eyes that seemed to see right through her. His presence sent a chill down Lira’s spine, but she welcomed him like she did all visitors.
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