The Distant Blade
The rain did not fall so much as it settled, a fine, gray mist that clung to the cobblestones of Alder Creek and seeped into the marrow of the stone buildings. It was a damp that had no beginning and no end, a constant, silent witness to the slow decay of the world. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the pier, his hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long since gone cold, watching the...
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