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Kaelen had been a woodsman for forty years. He could read a tree like a priest reads scripture, and he could wield a felling axe with a surgeon’s precision. But today, his hands trembled over the whetstone.

At dawn, they led Elena to the stump. Her eyes found his, and she did not beg. She simply nodded once—forgiveness, or perhaps thanks. axescheck

And his heart, though broken, was still true. Kaelen had been a woodsman for forty years