The Faded Root

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2026-08-19 00:33:51 -

The Faded Root

The mud under your boots is cold and thick, a paste that sucks at your ankles with a wet, reluctant grip as you drag your service revolver forward, the weight of it a dead thing in your hand. You are in the center of the square in Oakhaven, a town that smells of coal smoke and wet wool, and around you the crowd has parted in a wide, silent circle, their faces pale and hard as the winter stone....

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