“Go forth,” they had told Sanem and I. “Divinities bound by pact and promise shield every action of Parsa. They ignite our swords with blazing fury, and in open combat we cannot be stopped.” Perhaps they are right, but even victory takes its toll. After years of service, Sanem had become a walking mass of injury and regret. Her honorable discharge was the first time we had been separated for longer than a week. By that point, I could no longer follow.
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