The Faded Root
The iron gate did not shatter; it dissolved. It melted into a slurry of rust and grey mist, pooling at the feet of the man who had just thrown his shoulder against it with the desperate, hollow violence of a body that had forgotten how to be anything other than a weapon. He stood in the courtyard, a place that should have been a garden but was instead a labyrinth of glass spires and frozen...
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