The Faded Root

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2026-08-22 16:27:14 -

The Faded Root

The wind did not blow; it scraped. Silas Vane felt the mortar crumble beneath his chisel, a fine, grey powder drifting into the collar of his shirt like ash. He stopped. He held his breath. The dust settled. The stone remained. He looked at the Guild Master, a man named Aldous who wore a coat too clean for the scaffolding, standing three feet below with a clipboard in his hand. "The spire is...

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