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The Moss Lord wasn't one to brag. His kids were spoiled brats. His wife was a hag.
The Ant King of the Great Salt Maze. His workers died in droves. His people sang his praise. The Ant King of that great maze. His children bathed in the sweat of a thousand slaves. The Ant King of that great maze. His wife cried herself to sleep while he fucked in caves.
The Stone Wizard sounded the ram's horn from the cliff. It echoed down the hills with a seismic shift. Change had come to this ancient world. Rust can't erode a new hope unfurled.
The Poet's words carried a great weight. On a wave of wine and ink she held the people's fate. "Our toils for salt must be our past. Every worker's widow deserves a new path."
"Summon the Moss Lord. Learn the secret of glass."
The Moss Lord angered Father Sky. He got down on one knee and he begged "Why?"
That night he dreamed of fortune in trash. Our moss will be the greatest glass. That day he found his fortune in trash. Our moss became the greatest glass.