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... he beacon fires were extinguished.
Iron hooves had rampaged across ancestral lands, leaving a devastated landscape and survivors who stood vigil for the souls of the fallen.
The latter were resilient, like weed that not even a raging fire could destroy; A patch of exuberant green amidst the decaying ruins. Like germinating seeds, they tirelessly sank their roots deep into the harsh environment, drawing whatever sustenance they could. Piercing through the rocky surface towards daw ...
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