The Faded Root
The clock stood in the center of the shop. It was not a large clock. It was made of oak. The wood was dark. It had no face. It had no hands. It ticked. The sound was dry. It was a dry, wooden sound. Elias stood before it. He was a man of few words. He was a man of many tools. He held a chisel in his right hand. The steel was dull. He looked at the wood. He looked at the grain. The grain was...
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