The Distant Journey
The wind did not merely blow across the high moors of the Scottish Highlands; it tore at the very fabric of the sky, a ragged and relentless force that seemed to carry the weight of centuries of accumulated grief in its howling throat, and through this tumultuous veil, Sir Alistair Thorne pressed forward, his body a conduit for the storm, his mind a fortress of fractured glass where every shard...
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