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Chapter 216: Back at Home
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... e seam he had kept for himself under the valley and let the earth close over him the way a book shuts to keep its place. The descent was quiet—good stone, old heat, the slow breath of tunnels that had never needed names.
His hall greeted him with the small truths he liked: a basalt table polished by gauntlet and time, sconces that were not fire but remembered being fire, the dull, patient hum of runes that meant pressure, vent, focus. He sat carefully. That was new.
Pain announce ...
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