One moment Julien had been sitting on a stool in the gym, towl-drying his sweaty skin, the next he was standing in the capital of Zahara, in one of the parks at the outskirts that was on top one of the rolling hills, overlooking the magnificent major city of Zahara. He had been here often with A’naad and little Flavia, even with La’kia’s grandfather, a Zaharan he truly liked and respected. But, what was he doing here?
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