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The Three Bright Gold Apples on a Tree
There are three bright gold apples hanging heavy on an enormous tree. The weaver shimmers into existence and moves to pluck them from their tree. But they're also not alone. Who is that? Blue hairs like music. I've come to Palama, what power have you? What changes no? A cast on an alien. Deserve. It reads my captain's worth according to the deal. Those brothers, if we're dead, I'd rather die rich. There will be no mausoleums or ditches for our kind. We must probe our way back into the light. Casting off their court will change rich as if such a thing could ever exist in the outer