The Wistful Saga
The road to the highlands was not merely a path of mud and stone but a living thing, breathing with the damp rot of autumn leaves and the slow, grinding weight of history. Elias Thorne walked it with a scholar’s weary gait, his cloak heavy with rain, his mind a labyrinth of half-formed theorems regarding the nature of justice. He was a man of the court, of the university, of ink-stained fingers...
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