The Pale Verdict
The mist did not merely obscure the valley; it consumed the very concept of distance, wrapping the traveling merchant Elias Thorne in a damp, woolen silence that pressed against his eardrums like the weight of centuries he had not yet lived but could already feel settling into the marrow of his bones, a heavy, gelatinous fog that turned the ancient, moss-eaten stones of the bridge into ghostly...
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