The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-18 15:24:55 -

The rain fell on the iron roof like a thousand small hammers. Inside the tavern, the air was thick with the smell of wet wool, stale ale, and woodsmoke. Silas sat in the corner, his back against the rough-hewn timber. He was a large man, broad in the shoulders, with hands that looked like they had been carved from the same oak as the table. He held a cup of black tea, but he did not drink. He...

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