Bec



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Banba never believed I could remember my birth. She said it was impossible, even for a powerful priestess or druid. She thought I was imagining it.

But I wasn't. I remember it perfectly, like everything in my life. Coming into this world roughly, in the wilderness, my mother alone and exhausted.

I experienced the world in bewildering fragments and flashes. But even in my newborn state of confusion I could sense my mother's desperation. Though I was too young to truly know terror, I felt it in my heart and trembled.
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