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... arted from Aquamarina, the scent of salt and brine still lingering in the breeze. The convoy set off just after sunrise, the golden light casting long shadows over the cobblestone streets. Merchants were already setting up their stalls in the Seafarer's Market, their voices carrying through the air as they prepared for another bustling day of trade. I watched through the window as the harbor gradually disappeared behind us, the last glimpses of the glimmering sea fading into the horizon. The fur ...

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