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Mar 22nd, 2018
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  1. Salma. A city known throughout the continent as the frontier of war. Its long history was the history of Xanadu’s victory against the Andre empire. Myths and folklore spoke of Salma’s fierce warriors and valiant resistance against invading forces. Legend had it, that to conquer the fortified city, a blood price had to be paid.
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  3. Reality did the myths justice.
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  5. Nearly all the citizens wore armor and carried weapons. Each of their movements hid a sense of purpose and they seamlessly blended in with the city’s mundane, stone buildings. The metal gear they wore produced a choir of clatter that could be heard throughout the well-oiled, war machine that was Salma.
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  7. Others would only afford a nod as the brothers passed them by, but they didn’t mind. They too had a purpose.
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  9. The hammering of the smithy, the synchronized groans from the training grounds and the sounds of weapons clashing during spars were music to their ears. Made them feel at home.
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  11. Soon, the unnaturally huge banner of the city hall came into view. The picture of a life-sized, white dragon, the symbol of the Xanadu empire, decorated it.
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  13. Sydell and Blake entered the city hall under the dragon’s watchful eye. It had a mysterious quality to it. Something that made it seem vivid, almost alive.
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  15. Despite being renovated many times during its long history, the building’s interior still felt ancient. Oil paintings with themes of battle filled its spacious insides. Commanders leading their army to war and heroes facing off against ferocious beasts. But what stood out the most was the three meter tall, marble statue that had been erected in the center of the city hall. The figure pointed a sword to the sky, its faceless head held high and overflowing with pride.
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  17. Blake looked up at it with envy. The statue of the unknown soldier. A tribute to the bravery of the souls felled in battle. No nationality. No name. No identity. Only sacrifice.
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  19. “I’ve been waiting.”
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  21. An elderly man stood in front of the statue, his small, hunched body contrasting the soldier’s massive build.
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  23. He turned around to greet them with a smile and the map of scars on his face told of the most incredible journey. A shiny and pale cut above his eyebrow told of a battle fought, yet long forgotten. One cut across his cheek and two more over his left eye spoke of a life on the front lines. A life that had always dangled by a thread.
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