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... ady weight.
The towering spires loomed ahead, casting long shadows across the marble steps that led to it.
His eyes drifted to the side gate, remembering the exact spot where two guards had died by his hand. Their mistake had been trivial. At the time he had been ruled by anger that burning from within.
The high council had tried to humble him and Vernik —that self-righteous and smug — had poured oil on that fire.
Clyde snorted, amused by the memory now. Trouble a ...
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