The Faded Paradox
The mud of the valley road was deep enough to swallow a man’s boot, and Elias Thorne was losing his left shoe. He ran with a limp, the wet leather slipping on every step, the sound of it a wet slap against the earth that echoed louder than the rain. Behind him, the carriage wheels churned, and the lanterns of the guards cast long, trembling shadows against the pine trees. He did not look back....
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