The Faded Dust

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2026-08-20 23:34:23 -

The Faded Dust

The air in the Great Hall of the Citadel did not smell of dust, as the histories claimed, but of ozone and stale, fermented blood, a metallic tang that coated the back of Elias Thorne’s throat and refused to be washed away. He stood alone in the center of the circular dais, his back to the obsidian door, his hands resting lightly on the hilt of the longsword that had been his companion for...

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