The Faded Root
The tower fell on a Tuesday. Elias stood in the courtyard. He watched the stone crumble. Dust choked the air. It was thick. It tasted of iron and old earth. The sky was gone. Only gray remained. He did not run. His legs were lead. His mind was still. He counted the seconds. One. Two. Three. The wall had been there for centuries. It had seen kings and beggars. It had seen rain and snow. Now it...
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