Epilogue

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BUT THE FIRE DIED down, and nothing but ashes remained. Ashes on which new plants would grow. Plants, trees, beautiful flowers. Which would attract new wildlife. The entire circle of life would start again. One small Phoenix feather could destroy entire worlds, burn them to the ground. And then let them start all over again. Growing on the ashes. Maybe even more fertile than before. With new chances, new hopes. A new life built on the old one; never to be the same, but possible even better. A new life, as the Phoenix feather fell down.

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