The Faded Dust
The river had a taste of iron and old stone, a flavor that settled in the back of the throat and lingered long after the water was gone. Elara pressed her lips against the rough bark of the willow tree, her breath held in a tight, silent knot, while the shadow of the Watchmen stretched across the mud like a cold, grey tide. She was not alone; beside her, her brother Kael sat with his back...
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