In the country that greets the sun first as it rises from the darkness of the world, a dying man dreamed of a sakura tree, large and overwhelming, blooming in the midst of a winter storm. Of course, that was all a dream.

Let me tell you a tale of a king who turned all the things he loved into ashes and dust when his touch could not turn it to gold, because magic is a fickle thing and love is always cruel.

(This follows chapter 13 - 19 of the fic)

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