The Faded Root

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2026-08-20 03:57:30 -

The Faded Root

The hall smelled of roasted pork and old wool. It was a smell that clung to the throat, thick and sweet, a scent that belonged to a time before the air turned thin and gray. Colonel Elias Thorne stood by the heavy oak table, his hands resting on the polished surface. He watched the steam rise from the roast. It curled in slow, lazy spirals, dancing in the candlelight. Around him, the officers...

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