The Distant Summer
The mist had not yet lifted from the valley floor when Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the precipice, his boots sinking into the wet, spongy moss that clung to the ancient roots of the oaks, and he watched the small, shivering figure of his friend, Julian Vane, retreat into the grey void, the only sound accompanying the departure being the hollow, rhythmic creak of the rope bridge swaying in...
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