The Faded Quadrant
The iron-bound door of the armory in the keep of the Northern Reach did not open when Elias Thorne pushed against it, a fact that settled into his bones with the heavy, dull ache of a bone that had been broken and set wrong years ago. He was forty-two, a sergeant who had spent twelve years patrolling the grey, mist-choked borders of the kingdom, and the rust that ate at the hinges was not...
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