The Faded Dust
The rain did not fall in the Gutter; it drifted, a slow, grey snow of ash that settled on the cobblestones with the weight of centuries. Elias sat on the edge of his own grave, a metaphorical trench dug into the side of the cliff, watching the mist curl around his boots. He was a Sergeant in the Order of the Silent Bell, a unit tasked with keeping the border between the waking world and the...
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