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It was a crimson lantern. Sirien gently swayed it, drawing the attention of a few assassins tightening their encirclement.
The focus in their eyes disappeared entirely.
It was as if a serene, melodious voice echoed in my mind.
“Guiding lantern. Rest at the journey’s end.”
The enchantment didn’t last long.
A few other assassins quickly regained their vigilance, snapping the entranced back to their senses.
It was instinctual—something ...
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