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"Indeed," Kalenel spoke softly, slowly regaining his senses. It had been a very long time for the two, 30 patterns at the least. She had grown much since then, and was now a woman. Kalenel too had grown into a young warrior, one with a much better heart than his family. "I thought you were killed, in the att," Kalenel found the words hard to speak, "...the attack."
Kalenel wanted to grasp the girl in his ebony arms, to hold her and tell her how sorry he was for the treatment his family had shown her. He hesitated, and then completely gave up on the idea in fear of any wayward feelings she might have held against him. The young warrior was sure, though, that he had treated her more as a friend than a slave so many patterns ago, when she had served as his personal slave.
"Am I imagining this?" Kalenel said in a sharp whisper, to himself more than Aslancia, turning his head away from the sight of the woman. "My home," Kalenel said, turning back to look at the woman deeply with his crimson orbs. "It's close, can we talk there?"
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