The Pale Tale
The road into the valley of Oakhaven was not a path so much as a suggestion, a pale line of packed earth that wound through the mist like a vein beneath skin. Elias Thorne walked it with the heavy, rhythmic gait of a man who had forgotten how to rest. He carried a satchel of leather, worn thin and soft by the friction of years, and inside it lay the object that anchored his existence to the...
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