The Faded Root

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2026-08-17 13:45:57 -

The Faded Root

The train cut through the fog like a rusty blade through wet wool, a rhythmic, grinding complaint that vibrated up through the soles of my boots and into the marrow of my bones. I sat in the corner of the third-class carriage, my uniform tattered at the cuffs, the brass buttons polished only because there was nothing else I could do with my hands while the world blurred past the grime-streaked...

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