The Faded Root
Act I "Who taught you to weave with the dead?" the Guild Master’s voice did not echo, but it seemed to press against the damp stone of the workshop, a physical weight that made the air grow colder than the rain outside. Girma Omar stood by the loom, his hands trembling not from fear, but from the sudden, violent heat of the thread beneath his fingers, a heat that had no source in the industrial...
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