The Distant Clue
The road to the Iron Coast was long. Maren walked. Her boots were heavy. The mud sucked at her heels. It was night. The sky was black. There were no stars. Only the wind. It screamed. It cut. It tore at her cloak. She carried a stone. It was small. It was grey. It was cold. It fit in her palm. It was smooth. It was lifeless. It was nothing. Maren was a woman. She was old. Her hair was white....
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