The Distant Promise
The mud of the pass did not merely stick to my boots; it claimed them, a wet, heavy silence that swallowed the sound of my steps as I dragged my leg through the slurry of the autumn rains. I was a captain in the King’s Guard, a title that had once felt like armor, but now felt like a yoke of iron rusted onto my spine. The rain fell with the persistence of a judgment, blurring the line between...
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