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The War of Ten Suns had ended a thousand years ago, leaving the world smooth, transparent, and deadly. The desert was not made of sand; it was made of fused silica. It stretched for miles, a mirror reflecting the harsh blue sky.
Kael wore boots with diamond-tipped soles. It was the only way to walk without sliding. He was a glazier, a scavenger who hunted for "imperfections"—ancient artifacts trapped in the glass before the heat fused them.
"Careful," his sister, Rina, warned. She pointed to a crack in the ground. "Razor-wind coming."
They crouched low. The wind in the Glass Desert didn't just blow; it cut. It picked up microscopic shards of glass and turned the air into a sanding belt.
When the wind died, Kael saw it. Deep beneath their feet, trapped in a bubble of amber-colored glass, was a tree. A real, wooden tree with leaves.
"Impossible," Rina breathed. "Wood burns."
"Not if it was shielded," Kael said. He tapped the surface. "This glass... it's different. It's cool."
They spent three days chipping away at the layers. When they finally broke through, a puff of stale, ancient air escaped. It smelled of pine and damp earth—scents that didn't exist anymore.
Kael reached in and touched a leaf. It crumbled to dust instantly. But beneath the tree, nestled in the roots, was a seed pod. It was hard as stone.
"Is it alive?" Rina asked.
"There's only one way to find out," Kael said. He looked at his canteen. Water was more precious than gold. But hope? Hope was priceless.
He poured a single drop onto the seed. Nothing happened for a long moment. Then, a tiny hairline fracture appeared on the pod. A speck of green pushed through.
In a world of dead, sharp glass, a single soft thing had begun to grow. Kael smiled. The War was finally over.