Leah Paliakas

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In the Priory, battle had always been a dance. War, she soon found, was something quite different. There was no joy in this brutality, no rush of exhilaration each time she landed a blow. There was only sweat and toil, which tired her faster than she had thought possible. She buried her spearhead in one creature, wrenched it
A Day of Fallen Night (The Roots of Chaos #0.1)
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