The Faded Shield
The mist in the valley of Ashford did not merely settle upon the earth; it possessed a weight, a tangible, viscous quality that seemed to press against the skin like a cold, damp cloth. It was an ancient mist, older than the stone walls of the university, older than the spires of the cathedral that pierced the low-hanging clouds, and it had a way of swallowing sound until the world felt...
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