The Faded Root
Chapter One "You are late, Kazimierz, and the grain is already counting against you." The voice came from the shadowed archway of the tithe barn, where the air smelled of damp wool and the metallic tang of old blood. Kazimierz Lewandowski stood at the entrance, his boots sinking slightly into the red dust that coated the floorboards, a dust that seemed to rise from the earth itself rather than...
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