The Distant Promise
The rain had not stopped for forty days, a relentless, grey sheet that turned the cobblestones of the old town into slick, treacherous mirrors reflecting the rotting timber of the houses that leaned over the street like drunken men. Elias Thorne stood at the window of the Magistrate’s office, a room that smelled of damp wool and stale ink, watching the water drip from the eaves in a rhythmic,...
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