The Distant Legend
The rain did not fall so much as it persisted, a grey curtain drawn tight against the windowpanes of the inquisitor’s cell, blurring the world outside into a smear of mud and stone. You are sitting on a bench that has been worn smooth by centuries of anxious shins, your hands resting on your knees, fingers pale and thin as birch twigs. You are the investigator, the one sent to untangle the knot...
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