Chapter 93: Girl's Talk
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'White and gold against the ash,
A falling star, a blinding flash.
She did not raise her staff to strike,
But held the child against the night.
The Paragon, the First Light's grace,
Who looked the demons in the face,
And saw not monsters in the mud,
But beating hearts and crimson blood.'
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The rich, melodic voice of Nyssa filled the humid air of the bathhouse. It was a sharp and welcome contrast to the metallic grime of the Labyrinth they had just escaped.
Anise sat submerged up to her collarbones, her eyes closed. She listened to the ancient words with a quiet, profound reverence.
A single tear slipped down her pale cheek, mingling with the warm bathwater.
She scooped a handful of warm water over her glowing, olive-toned shoulder.
"My grandmother used to sing that folk song to me every night before I went to sleep," Nyssa said softly.
