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Inside two weeks Fred was readily referring to herself and thinking of herself as Waverly; often it even took some effort to recall her original name. As a matter of fact, there were a lot of things she was forgetting: what it felt like to have legs and walk, the feeling of the wind on her skin and grass under her feet, the taste of human food, the sound of birdsong, the warmth of the sun... And even the personal life of Sir Fred seemed more and more distant with each passing day—she could hardly remember his first home, his acquaintances as a page, the first girl he ever courted, the words to his favorite song, the process of his usual training routine... As a human she had never felt any particular draw to the sea, despite having lived on the coast for several years; now, she never felt any desire to bring herself above the water, and it wasn't just because of the discomfort. She sang and hummed merfolk lullabies and ballads that she'd learned and hardly even remembered any human songs. Swimming was so much more enjoyable than merely walking or even fighting or dancing could ever be. The wildlife around here was admittedly not the most exotic, but something about it was so beautiful. It was the most peaceful she'd ever felt in her entire life. Except she was certain no one could have this profound a change of heart in such a short span of time without magical influence.
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