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... looking back on it, Orba remembered far stronger sunlight that seemed to broil the top of his head, and with it, the taste of blood, bitter and like rusted iron, and the anger that raged through his heart.

It had been from that time onwards.

When a brand that would never disappear had been burned onto his back.

Along with other men in similarly tattered clothing, Orba had been brought, practically naked, to the town plaza.

The sun was overhead.

As he stoo ...

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