Chains are made to hold fast and secure but even the strongest break with neglect and time. Salt and air eat through the hardest iron just as age devours man of strength and sense. It was the nature of things and something keen in the mind of the man who stood on the dock, ignoring the bustle of soldiers and sailors around him. Frost had not touched Nathion's dark hair yet but there were lines round his eyes and mouth when he smiled, earned from the southern sun.
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