The Faded Sutra

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2026-08-20 14:01:56 -

The Faded Sutra

The harvest festival in Oakhaven was a riot of gold and rust, a suffocating abundance that hung in the air like the scent of rotting fruit. The village square was strung with lanterns that flickered against the encroaching dusk, casting long, trembling shadows that danced over the faces of the villagers as they moved in a slow, rhythmic procession. At the center of this swirling mass of wool...

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