
The sun dipped low beyond the horizon, painting the sky in molten gold and blood-red streaks.
In the heart of the village, a mass I've fire roared to life β its heat making the air shimmer, the sparks rising like a thousand restless spirits.
The sun dipped low beyond the horizon, painting the sky in molten gold and blood-red streaks.
In the heart of the village, a mass I've fire roared to life β its heat making the air shimmer, the sparks rising like a thousand restless spirits.
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