The Faded Road
The Feast of Ascension was a riot of gold and wine, the air in the Grand Hall thick with the scent of roasted lamb and the cloying sweetness of lilies, yet Elias Thorne felt only the cold, rigid pressure of the sash wrapped around his waist. It was a strip of fabric that seemed to shift in color depending on the angle, iridescent like the oil on a puddle, and it had been woven into his skin...
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