The Wistful Ashes
What does a border warden do when the border is inside the wood? Georgi Karamyan stood in the eastern wing, the air heavy with rotting cedar and the metallic tang of fear. He was thirty-two, a man whose hands knew the weight of a bronze razor, an heirloom his grandfather had sharpened until it could slice a whisper, yet he found himself gripping the hilt of a sword that felt too heavy for the...
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