The Faded Dust
The silence in the keep was not an absence of sound but a physical weight, a dense and suffocating blanket woven from the dampness of the stone and the stagnant air of the sealed vault, where Lord Thomas Ashworth sat alone with the slowly creeping frost that had begun to claim the edges of the room and his own limbs alike. He was a man carved from the same unyielding material as the fortress...
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