Kahlan I sank heavily onto the bench, my legs trembling with a rhythmic, uncontrollable shudder under me. Sweat dripped down my temples, stinging my eyes with salt, and my lungs screamed for air as if they’d been filled with liquid fire that scorched every inhalation. My muscles were screaming, a chorus of agony that throbbed in time with my pulse, and my ribs protested every shallow movement with a sharp, stabbing friction. Yet, I forced myself to breathe deeply, fighting the instinct to gasp, desperately trying to shake off the suffocating grey haze of pure physical exhaustion. Freya appeared beside me almost silently, a ghost in the periphery, holding a small food bowl. The faint, earthy aroma of something warm and salty—bone broth, perhaps—hit my senses, and I turned my head sluggishly, the movement feeling like I was pulling my neck through thick molasses. “Here, you need it more" she said, passing the bowl to me with a steady hand. Her eyes were curious and unsettl
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