The Distant Journey

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2026-08-19 00:19:47 -

The woolen shawl wrapped around Elara’s shoulders was the only thing in the cold stone hall that did not smell of damp rot or fear. It was a thick, heavy thing, dyed the deep, arterial red of dried blood, woven by her mother’s hands before the fever took her. It was Elara’s armor, her skin, her secret. She had not left it behind when the Inquisitor’s men dragged her from her bed in the small...

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