The Distant Blade
I Why does a man keep a thing for three years if he intends to throw it away? Lan Luo stood in the signal box, the air heavy with wet wool and the faint, metallic tang of the forge hammering three causeways away. The cold snap had burst the pipes in the barracks, leaving the water freezing and the mud on the ground hard as stone, but his hands were warm from the tin he held. It was a small,...
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