Prologue
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He, a man, walked in a desert of shadows, the winds blowing his tattered cape—which was made from the shadows themselves. Here, in the lands of the shadows, the Shadow Lands, the sky was always shrouded in night, in shadows. Everywhere he looked he found nothing, no one apart from the burnt looking desert. From where he was, there was nothing in the Shadow Lands apart from him and the black ground beneath, the ground he was walking on.
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