The Faded Quadrant
The iron was cold. Elara touched the gate. It groaned. Rust flaked like dead skin. "Stay back," said the man. He held a spear. The tip was dull. Elara looked at him. He was tall. His armor was dented. "I am here," she said. "You are a child," he said. "I am the key." He laughed. It was a dry sound. Like dry leaves. "Go home." She did not move. The wind blew. It smelled of ash. The sky was grey....
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