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Harry stared at the ethereal figure of Ranni, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword. The blue fog swirled around them, making the ruins feel like a dream world. "How do you know I'm far from home?"
Ranni's porcelain face curved into a knowing smile, her celestial eye twinkling like a distant star. When she spoke, her voice sounded calming. "It is my duty to know what transpires in the Lands Between, young wizard." Both her real face and spectral face maintained that same mysterious expression.
"Not much to know," Harry muttered, glancing at the battlefield where he'd fought earlier. Blood still stained the grass. "This world seems to be falling apart from what I've seen."
"Oh?" Ranni tilted her head slightly, her witch's hat shifting to reveal more of those moving celestial patterns. "I must disagree. Someone like you doesn't simply appear in our realm every day. A boy from another world..." Her four hands gestured expressively. "A unique Tarnished, indeed."
"I'm not a Tarnished," Harry said firmly. His thoughts drifted to Hermione and Sirius – were they searching for him? Was Pettigrew free? Was Sirius even alive? The worry must have shown on his face because Ranni's expression softened slightly.
Harry shook his head, forcing himself to focus. "Why are you here?"
"I'm not," Ranni replied, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. As she spoke, Harry noticed how the fog seemed to pass right through her form. The realization hit him – this was like a projection, a mirage.
"Where is your body, then?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing. "Where are you really?"
Ranni's smile took on a sadder quality, though it remained mysterious. "My immortal flesh is long gone, young wizard." The ghost face seemed to flicker slightly as she spoke.
Harry frowned, not understanding. "Did you come here – or, well, send this vision of yourself – just to chat?"
A soft chuckle escaped Ranni's lips, the sound like distant wind chimes. Despite knowing she wasn't really there, Harry couldn't help but marvel at how solid she appeared, perched on that broken wall like a queen on her throne.
"I know what you seek," she said, her galactic eye fixed on him. "You wish to return home."
Harry's gaze flickered involuntarily to Melina's sleeping form before returning to Ranni. His guide looked peaceful in her rest, unaware of this strange midnight visitor. "Can you help me?" he asked, trying to keep the desperate hope from his voice.
Ranni nodded, her movements graceful and deliberate. "I know what brought you to this world," she said, each word measured carefully. "And I know what can return you."
Harry felt a burst of joy in his chest. His friends, his world – maybe he could get back to them sooner than he'd thought. "What do I need to do?" he asked. "Where should I go?"
One of Ranni's hands rose, pointing elegantly toward the Erdtree. "Behold the Divine Tower," she said.
Harry followed her gesture, squinting through the golden glow of the massive tree. There, almost hidden behind its radiance, stood a tower that seemed to pierce the very sky. It stood near Stormveil Castle, its dark stone a stark contrast to the Erdtree's brilliance.
"Within the Divine Tower of Limgrave," Ranni continued, her voice taking on an almost musical quality, "you will find your way home. But first..." Her eye gleamed. "You must reach Stormveil Castle and defeat Godrick the Grafted."
Harry's heart sank slightly. He'd heard enough about Godrick to know what that meant.
"You must grow stronger," Ranni added, as if reading his thoughts. "As you are now, you would fall before Godrick's might. Only when you've proven yourself should you ascend the Divine Tower."
"What's up there?" Harry asked, his curiosity burning. "What can help me get home?"
Ranni's smile widened slightly as one of her hands reached into the folds of her elaborate robes. She produced a knife that seemed to be made of moonlight itself, its blade glittering with an otherworldly silver sheen. She held it out to him.
Harry hesitated before taking it. The moment his fingers touched the blade, he felt wrong – as if the knife itself rejected his touch. It was cold, colder than any metal had a right to be.
"When you reach the tower's peak," Ranni said, her form beginning to shimmer like starlight on water, "you will know what must be done."
Harry had a thousand questions burning in his mind – about her, about the knife, about everything – but Ranni was already fading. Her form dissolved into countless points of blue light, like a constellation coming apart.
Her final words hung in the air like frost: "Only a Life can pay for another Life."
The fog began to dissipate with her departure, leaving Harry alone with the sleeping Melina and a knife that felt like winter in his hand. He stared at the Divine Tower in the distance, wondering what price he would have to pay to get home – and whether he would be willing to pay it.
Harry turned the strange dagger over in his hands, studying its slightly curved blade in the moonlight. The silver metal seemed to catch and hold the light differently than any weapon he'd seen before, almost as if it were drinking in the moonbeams. Every time he touched it, that same wrong feeling crept through his fingers, like holding something that wasn't meant to be touched by him.
His gaze drifted to Melina's sleeping form. Would she know anything about Ranni the Witch? She had spoken of so many other powerful figures in this land – Malenia, the Blade of Miquella; General Radahn, who held back the stars; and Queen Marika. Each name came with its own lengthy history. Yet somehow, Ranni hadn't come up in their conversations.
The Divine Tower loomed in the distance, a dark spike against the golden glow of the Erdtree. Harry squinted at it, trying to imagine what might wait at its peak. Was his way home really up there? Melina, for all her knowledge and guidance, had never been able to explain how he'd been pulled into the Lands Between. And now this mysterious witch appears, offering answers wrapped in riddles and a blade that felt wrong to touch.
"Only a Life can pay for another Life," he whispered to himself, turning the words over in his mind like puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit. Could he trust Ranni? Her appearance had been dramatic enough, certainly, but he'd learned the hard way that impressive magic didn't always mean trustworthy intentions.
Still, what choice did he have? It was the only lead he'd found since arriving in this broken world. Even if it was a trap, at least it was something to move toward, something more concrete than wandering the Lands Between hoping to stumble upon a way home.
Harry carefully wrapped the dagger in a piece of cloth before storing it in his pack. He lay down near Melina, close enough to hear her soft breathing. The sound was oddly comforting in this alien world, a reminder that he wasn't completely alone.
As sleep began to creep over him, his thoughts drifted to his friends back home. Was Hermione in the library right now, surrounded by towers of books, searching for a way to bring him back? Was Ron helping her, trying to keep her from working herself too hard? And Sirius – his godfather had only just gotten his freedom back, only just offered Harry a real home. Now he was gone, pulled into this strange world of demigods and dragons.
The last thing Harry saw before sleep took him was the golden light of the Erdtree, its branches stretching endlessly into the night sky like the bars of a beautiful cage. Tomorrow, he would need to grow stronger. Tomorrow, he would need to prepare for Godrick. But for now, he let himself drift away, carried on dreams of home.
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Harry sat cross-legged by the morning's campfire, watching Melina's expression carefully as he recounted his midnight visitor. The flames cast dancing shadows across her face, making her purple eye seem to shimmer.
"Ranni the Witch?" Melina's voice carried a note of surprise, her visible eye widening slightly. Harry nodded, and she turned her gaze toward the Divine Tower, her expression becoming contemplative.
After a moment of charged silence, Harry cleared his throat. "Do you know her?"
Melina's fingers absently traced patterns in the air as she spoke, a habit Harry had noticed she had when deep in thought. "Princess Ranni is the daughter of Queen Rennala of the Full Moon," she said, her voice taking on the measured tone she used when sharing histories. "She resides in the Academy of Raya Lucaria. Or at least, she did. A long time ago, her husband was General Radagon of the Golden Order."
Harry leaned forward, warming his hands by the fire. "You're saying 'was' a lot."
A small, sad smile touched Melina's lips. "Much has changed in the Lands Between since the Shattering." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I don't know much about Princess Ranni herself, only that of the three children Queen Rennala had with Radagon – Rykard, Radahn, and Ranni – she was said to have taken after her mother most strongly. A born sorceress."
"But can she be trusted?" Harry asked, his hand unconsciously moving to where he'd stored the strange dagger.
Melina's face grew troubled, her brow furrowing slightly. She seemed to choose her next words with exceptional care. "In this broken world, those you can trust are very few and far between." She met Harry's gaze directly. "I cannot say if her words about the Divine Tower are true, but..." She glanced at the tower in the distance. "It wouldn't hurt to try. We need a direction, after all."
Harry nodded slowly, his mind already turning to the next challenge. "How powerful is Godrick, really? You talked about him and said he grew tired of having two arms, so he decided to grow an extra few, but..."
"Too powerful for you to face right now," Melina said firmly, her expression brooking no argument. "You need to grow stronger first. Much stronger." She gestured to the lightning burns Harry had left on the ground during yesterday's battle. "Your dragon magic is developing well, but you need more control, more power. And your sword work..."
"Still needs work," Harry finished with a slight grimace. "I know." He looked out across the landscape, his eyes settling on the distant lake where they'd spotted the dragon days ago. "We never did check out that dragon by the lake. Might be a good opportunity to observe, learn something new."
Melina's eye narrowed slightly. "To observe only," she emphasized, though Harry caught the hint of amusement in her voice. "You're not ready to face a dragon yet."
"Don't worry," Harry said, standing up and brushing grass from his robes. "I haven't gone completely mad yet. Just want to see how it moves, maybe understand these powers better." He offered her his hand to help her up, a gesture that made her blink in surprise before accepting it with a small smile.
"Besides," he added with a grin, "I reckon facing Godrick will be enough of a challenge without adding dragon-slaying to my to-do list."
Melina's laugh was like silver bells in the morning air. "Indeed. Though knowing you, Harry Potter, I wouldn't be surprised if dragon-slaying ends up on that list eventually."
As they gathered their belongings and prepared to head toward the lake, Harry found himself thinking of Hagrid. His former professor would have loved to see a real dragon up close - though knowing Hagrid, he'd probably try to adopt it. The thought brought both a smile and a pang of homesickness.
"What are you thinking about?" Melina asked, noticing his distant expression.
"Just... a friend from home," Harry replied, adjusting his sword belt. "He's mad about dragons. Would probably try to keep one as a pet if he could."
Melina's eye widened in disbelief. "Keep a dragon as a pet? Your world must be very different indeed."
"You have no idea," Harry chuckled, remembering Norbert - or rather, Norberta - the Norwegian Ridgeback. "Though I suppose after everything I've seen here, maybe our worlds aren't so different after all. Just... different kinds of mad."
They began their journey toward the lake, the morning sun warming their backs. Harry kept one hand near his sword and the other ready to cast magic if needed. The white dagger Ranni had given him felt cold against his hip, a constant reminder of the mysterious witch's words.
"Tell me more about your friend who likes dragons," Melina said as they walked, her voice gentle. She had noticed how Harry's face lit up when speaking of home and seemed to understand his need to hold onto those connections.
"Well, his name's Hagrid," Harry began, carefully stepping over a fallen log. "He's about twice as tall as a normal person and three times as wide. Has a big bushy beard and the kindest heart you'll ever meet." He paused, remembering something. "Though his definition of 'dangerous' is a bit... different from most people's."
"How so?" Melina asked, gracefully navigating the same obstacle.
"Let's just say he once tried to raise a dragon in a wooden house," Harry said with a fond shake of his head. "And that wasn't even the most dangerous creature he's kept as a pet."
Melina's eye widened again. "Your friend sounds... interesting."
"That's one way to put it," Harry laughed. The sound echoed slightly in the morning air, and he quickly lowered his voice, remembering their destination. "We should probably be quieter as we get closer to the lake."
Melina nodded in agreement, and they continued their journey in comfortable silence. Harry found himself grateful for these moments - even in this strange and dangerous world, he'd found someone who listened, who understood, who helped him hold onto hope.
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As they walked toward the lake, Harry's boots crunching on the frost-covered grass, Melina looked at Harry, her eye looked at him strangely, and Harry was sure he could see a faint pink color in her cheeks.
"Tell me about your world," she said suddenly, her purple eye curious. "What was your life like before all this?"
Harry gave a short laugh. "Would you believe me if I told you I lived in a cupboard under the stairs until I was eleven?"
Melina stopped walking, her eye widening. "You're joking."
"Nope," Harry said, popping the 'p'. "My aunt and uncle... well, they weren't exactly thrilled about having a wizard in the family. Then Hagrid showed up – he's half-giant, by the way – and told me I was a wizard." He smiled at the memory. "Broke down the door of a tiny hut in the middle of a storm to deliver my Hogwarts letter."
Melina didn't seem happy that Harry had lived in a cupboard but decided to talk about it later. "Hogwarts?" Melina tilted her head, her silvery hair catching the sunlight. "Your school of magic?"
"Yeah. It's a castle, actually. Bit like Stormveil, I suppose, but less..." Harry waved his hand vaguely, "murdery."
That drew a genuine laugh from Melina, a sound that made Harry grin. "Murdery isn't a word, Harry."
"Is now. I'm making it official. When I become Elden Lord, that'll be my first decree – 'murdery' is officially a word."
Melina's eye sparkled with amusement. "And here I thought you weren't interested in becoming Elden Lord."
"Well, if it helps me expand the dictionary..." They shared a laugh, and Harry felt some of the tension from the previous night's events ease from his shoulders.
After a moment, Harry turned the conversation back to her. "What about you? What's your story? I mean, you appear and disappear at will, you know so much about this world..." He gestured at her ethereal form. "What are you, really?"
Melina's expression grew distant, her smile fading slightly. "I... I'm not entirely sure myself." She looked down at her hands; small burn marks ran across her palm. "I was born at the foot of the Erdtree, or at least... I think I was."
"You think?"
"My memories are... unclear," she admitted, her voice soft. "I know my purpose is to guide the Tarnished, to help them reach the Erdtree. But beyond that..." She shrugged, the gesture somehow elegant despite its simplicity.
"That must be frustrating," Harry said carefully, watching her face. "Not knowing where you came from."
"Sometimes," Melina agreed. "But then again," she added with a slight smile, "how many people truly know where they came from? Even you, Harry Potter – do you really know why you have these dragon powers?"
"Fair point," Harry conceded. "Though at least I know why I lived in a cupboard. My aunt and uncle were just gits."
"Gits? Is that another word you'll be officially decreeing when you're Elden Lord?"
"Oh, definitely. Along with 'prat' and 'bloody hell' – Ron's favorite." Harry's smile turned slightly wistful at the mention of his friend.
"You miss them," Melina observed softly. "Your friends."
"Yeah," Harry sighed. "Hermione's probably worried sick. She's probably got every book in the library spread out, looking for a way to find me. And Ron..." He shook his head. "Actually, Ron's probably trying to stop Hermione from working herself to death over it."
"They sound like good friends."
"The best," Harry agreed. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he added, "Though they've never helped me fight a dragon, so you might have them beat there."
Melina raised an eyebrow. "We haven't fought any dragons yet."
"Yet," Harry emphasized with a grin. "Give it time. I'm sure it'll happen eventually."
"You're impossible," Melina said, but her tone was fond.
"That's what Hermione always says too. Must be doing something right if I'm getting consistent reviews."
They continued walking, their banter flowing naturally now. Harry noticed that despite her cryptic answers about her past, Melina seemed more relaxed than usual, her laughter coming more easily.
"You know," Harry said after a while, "for someone who's supposed to be all mysterious and guide-like, you're actually pretty fun to talk to."
Melina's eye widened slightly in surprise before her expression softened. "And for someone who's supposed to be a legendary Tarnished from another world, you're remarkably... normal."
"Normal?" Harry clutched his chest in mock offense. "After all we've been through, you wound me with 'normal'?"
"Would you prefer 'extraordinarily strange'?"
"Much better, thank you."
They reached a ridge overlooking the lake, and Melina's expression turned serious. "Harry?"
"Mm?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
She seemed to struggle with her words for a moment. "For treating me like a person. Not just a guide or a tool to help you get stronger."
Harry's green eyes met her purple one. "Well, that's what friends do, isn't it?"
Melina's smile was radiant, though Harry noticed a touch of sadness in it that he couldn't quite understand. Before he could ask about it, she pointed toward the lake. "Look – there's your lake, the dragon should be here."
The morning sun cast long shadows across Agheel Lake as Harry and Melina peered over the cliff's edge. Below them stretched a vast expanse of shallow water, no deeper than a foot, its surface rippling gently in the breeze. Ancient stones jutted from the water like broken teeth, remnants of some long-forgotten structure.
"I don't see it," Harry muttered, scanning the area. "Yura said the dragon would be here."
Melina nodded. "We can get closer. There's a path down to the bank." She gestured to a narrow trail that wound its way down the cliff face, worn smooth by countless travelers.
They picked their way carefully down the path, loose stones skittering beneath their feet. The air grew damper as they descended, carrying the musty smell of stagnant water and decay. To their right, a cluster of ruined buildings rose from the landscape like ancient bones. Their crumbling walls were home to strange, bat-like creatures that wheeled through the air on leathery wings, each one larger than a grown man.
"Those aren't regular bats, are they?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low.
"No," Melina replied simply, her eye tracking their movements. "Best to avoid them if we can."
As they reached the lake's edge, Harry noticed movement ahead. A group of figures shuffled aimlessly through the shallow water, their skin gray and withered, pulled tight across their bones like ancient parchment. They moved with jerky, unnatural motions, like poorly controlled puppets.
"Melina?" Harry whispered, his hand instinctively moving to his sword. "What are they?"
"Hollows," she said softly, a note of sadness in her voice. "They were people once, before death consumed them. Now they're just..." She trailed off, searching for the right words.
But before she could finish, Harry felt something strange – a sudden pressure in his head, a tingling sensation down his arm. It wasn't painful, but it was intense, like the feeling before a thunderstorm. Something deep within him, something connected to his newfound dragon powers, screamed a warning.
"It's here," Harry said suddenly, his voice tight with certainty.
Melina turned to him, concern evident in her purple eye. "Harry?"
A shadow passed over them, and they looked up to see a massive shape blocking out the sun. The dragon was enormous, its wingspan wider than several houses placed end to end. Its scales gleamed like burnished bronze in the morning light, and its eyes blazed.
The beast descended with shocking speed, landing among the hollows with earth-shattering force. Water exploded upward in a great sheet, and the unfortunate hollows were crushed beneath its massive claws, their shrieks cut short in a chorus of sickening crunches. The impact sent tremors through the ground that nearly knocked Harry and Melina off their feet.
The dragon turned its massive head toward them, muscles rippling beneath scales that looked harder than steel. Its nostrils flared, taking in their scent, and its pupils narrowed to vertical slits. When it opened its mouth to roar, Harry caught a glimpse of teeth longer than his arm, arranged in rows like swords in an armory.
The roar that followed was like nothing Harry had ever heard – not the basilisk, not the werewolf, not even the dragons he'd seen in books. It was primal. The sound physically pushed against them, stirring their clothes and sending ripples across the lake's surface.
"I think," Harry said with remarkable calm, considering the circumstances, "we might want to move."
The dragon's chest began to glow with an ominous red light, and Melina's eye widened. "NOW!" she shouted, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him toward the ruins.
As they ran, Harry couldn't help but think that maybe some of Hermione's lectures about being more careful might have had a point after all.
Harry and Melina burst through the ruins' entrance as a wave of dragon fire swept past, the heat so intense it singed the edges of Harry's robes. The ancient stone walls groaned under the assault, centuries-old masonry cracking from the thermal shock.
"I liked them better when they were small!" Harry shouted over the roar of flames, his heart pounding.
Above them, the bat-like creatures erupted into chaos, their shrieks echoing off the stone walls. Most took flight, their massive wings creating gusts of wind in the enclosed space, but several dove toward the intruders, razor-sharp teeth glinting in the firelight.
Without thinking, Harry drew his sword in one fluid motion – just as Yura had taught him – and caught the first creature mid-dive. The blade sliced clean through it, and the beast dissolved into golden runes that flowed into him.
"Behind you!" Harry shouted as another creature lunged at Melina. But before he could move to help, she spun with grace, a golden dagger materializing in her hand. The blade found the creature's eye with deadly precision.
"I can handle myself," she said with a slight smirk, making Harry grin despite their situation.
The dragon's roar shook the ruins again, and Harry could feel the heat intensifying. "Getting a bit warm in here!"
Five more of the bat-creatures descended. Harry's sword flashed in the firelight, each strike more confident than the last. The creatures dissolved into runes, their essence joining his growing strength.
"Harry!" Melina's voice cut through the chaos. "Here!" She pointed to a set of stairs leading underground.
They raced down the steps just as another blast of dragon fire illuminated the ruins above. The heat followed them down like an angry breath.
"You know," Harry groaned as they descended, "running away from a dragon wasn't exactly on my to-do list for today."
"Consider it a surprise addition to your training schedule."
"I don't like this kind of surprise," Harry muttered, though he was smiling. "Next time, let's stick to surprise sword practice or surprise lightning lessons."
They reached the bottom of the stairs, where absolute darkness waited. Melina raised her hand, and a sphere of golden light bloomed in her palm, casting warm shadows across the ancient stonework.
The dragon's roars had grown muffled, almost distant. "Think it's given up?" Harry asked hopefully.
"Hard to say," Melina shrugged, her ethereal form casting strange reflections in the golden light. "Dragons can be... persistent."
They found themselves facing a massive metallic door, its surface covered in strange markings. There was no handle, just a slight gap at the bottom.
"You'll need to lift it," Melina said, gesturing to the gap.
Harry stared at her. "Why can't anything in this world just have a normal handle? You know, like regular doors made by regular people who don't hate fingers?"
"Where would be the fun in that?" Melina teased.
Grumbling good-naturedly, Harry crouched down and wedged his fingers under the door. "Right then, how bad could it – bloody hell!" He strained against the weight, his muscles protesting. "This thing probably weighs more than Hagrid!"
"The one with the baby dragon in a wooden house?"
"The same," Harry grunted, putting his back into it.
With one final, heroic effort, Harry pushed upward. The door groaned in protest but finally slid up into the ceiling, revealing a large square room. In the center sat a solitary chest, looking almost lonely in the vast space.
Melina's eye narrowed suspiciously. "A chest. Just sitting there. How convenient."
"You're not filling me with confidence," Harry said, forming a small lightning bolt in his palm for extra light and to launch at somebody if they got attacked. They moved deeper into the room, their footsteps echoing off the ancient stones. "Though I suppose after the dragon, a suspicious chest isn't the worst thing we've seen today."
"Your optimism is charming," Melina said dryly.
"I try. Though honestly, after living with the Dursleys, fighting a dragon almost seems normal." He paused, considering. "Well, maybe not normal. But at least the dragon's honest about wanting to kill me."
Melina shot him a concerned look. "Your relatives sound... challenging."
"That's one word for it," Harry chuckled.
They reached the chest, which sat innocently before them, showing no signs of being trapped or dangerous. Of course, in Harry's experience, that usually meant it was extremely trapped and dangerous.
"So," he said, looking at Melina, "what are the chances this chest is actually just a chest?"
"In the Lands Between?" Melina raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't bet on it."
"Brilliant," Harry sighed. "Just once, I'd like to find a chest that's just a chest. Is that too much to ask?"
"Says the boy who can shoot lightning from his hands."
"Fair point." Harry grinned at her. "Ready to find out what horrible surprise is waiting for us this time?"
Melina's golden light illuminated her answering smile. "After you, O mighty dragon-runner-away-from."
"That's Tarnished dragon-runner-away-from to you," Harry corrected with mock seriousness, making her laugh again.
Harry wondered if it might be better not to open the chest, but then the ground shook again, letting them know the dragon was right above them. Suddenly, they found it a little difficult to breathe.
"He is breathing fire. We are underground. We cannot stay here. We will run out of air." Melina shouts, and Harry curses under his breath. Why things couldn't be simple?
With a metallic creak, Harry pushed open the chest's heavy lid. For a split second, he caught a glimpse of emptiness within – no gold, no weapons, nothing but darkness. Then everything went wrong.
White smoke erupted from the chest like a geyser, filling the room with impossible speed. The vapor was thick and cold, carrying a strange metallic taste that reminded Harry of blood.
"Harry!" Melina's voice cut through the chaos, tinged with alarm.
He tried to step back, but something was pulling him forward – an invisible force emanating from the chest. It felt like hooks had latched onto his very being, dragging him toward the darkness within.
"Melina!" Harry shouted, his voice echoing strangely in the smoke-filled chamber. He reached out blindly, trying to find her in the whiteness, but his fingers grasped only vapor.
The pulling sensation intensified, and Harry felt his feet leave the ground. The world around him became nothing but white fog and that terrible pulling force. The last thing he heard was Melina calling his name again, her voice growing distant as everything faded to blinding white.
And then he was falling, falling into a void that shouldn't exist within a simple chest, Melina's final cry echoing in his ears as consciousness slipped away from him like water through his fingers.
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