The Faded Root
The town of Oakhaven did not sleep so much as it held its breath, a collective suspension of respiration that stretched into the grey, pre-dawn hours. Elias Thorne stood at the center of the town square, the cobblestones slick with a mist that smelled of wet limestone and old iron. Around him, the architecture of his memory had begun to rot. The town hall, a brick structure that had housed his...
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