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... d at the other side of it.
The symbols on his robes always looked different under lamplight than they did in the morning. Less like decoration, more like a record someone had written down and never bothered erasing.
The hem was worn bare along the front edge. The sort of wear you see on clothing that travels a lot through time and space and never stops long enough to worry about the hem.
He’d walked over from the chairs after finishing his latest assessment of them. The a ...
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