The Pale Banner
The mist did not lift so much as it surrendered, peeling back in slow, gray strips to reveal the valley below. It was a landscape of ancient stone and silent water, a place where the laws of the world seemed to bend under the weight of their own age. Elias Thorne walked at the head of the procession, his boots sinking into the soft loam that smelled of iron and decay. Behind him, the other...
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