57
I woke up at dusk. I hadn't meant to sleep this long; it was a miracle Elvadriandel hadn't summoned us already.
Aneira sat at the wall loom, working it expertly. The rhythmic thumps emanated from it as the cloth grew taller and taller. She hadn't noticed me yet, and I allowed myself the luxury of becoming hypnotized for a few seconds. The loom, like everything else in the city, was a functional sculpture, with curved edges and delicate intersections. I envied Aneira for being the first to use it.
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