en Cuevana. Ilraan walks from one place to another, hoping something will make sense. It never does. The ruins stay ruins. The forests stay quiet. The shores keep their distance. Each place gives him less than the one before. He does not find peace. He finds more questions. And the more he looks, the less the world explains itself. It just keeps showing him his own unease. Somewhere in all of that, he stops believing the world has any shape worth trusting.
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