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Galathor, The Bear
As Atheria and Lyra fought their way closer to the cliff's edge, several archers positioned themselves and drew their bows. With deadly accuracy, they fired a volley of arrows that whistled through the air. Atheria and Lyra, their senses dulled by the white powder that still clung to their skin and clothes, were unable to react in time.

Arrows struck them, finding their marks. Atheria cried out as pain seared through her side, while Lyra grunted as an arrow pierced her shoulder. Blood flowed from their wounds, staining their clothes and adding to the chaos of the battle.

Despite their injuries, the guards continued to pursue them relentlessly. The relentless assault forced Atheria and Lyra closer and closer to the cliff's edge. The guards, their determination fueled by Belanor's commands, pressed forward, weapons drawn and faces twisted with rage.

With the cliff now looming before them, Lyra gasped, her vision blurred by the pain of her injuries. She looked at Atheria and said urgen
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