The Distant Garden
The road to the Iron Citadel was not a road at all, but a scar in the earth, a long, jagged wound of red clay and black stone that you had to walk with the deliberate, heavy grace of a man who knows his own weight is a burden he has chosen to carry rather than one that has been thrust upon him, and you walked it now, in the grey, pre-dawn silence that precedes the breaking of the world, with...
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