The Faded Frontier
The rain did not fall. It hung. I stood in the center of the moor. The water was thick, like oil, like time. It coated my skin. It weighed on my bones. I was wet. I was cold. I was alone. My name is Elias. I am a seeker. I look for what is lost. I look for what is hidden. I look for the truth. The truth is a heavy thing. It has no shape. It has no name. But it has weight. It pulls at the chest....
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