The Distant Promise
The fog did not rise from the earth; it descended from the sky, a heavy, grey shroud that swallowed the spires of the Citadel of Aethelgard. Thomas Vane stood at the edge of the precipice, his boots caked in the red clay of the outer ramparts, watching the mist obscure the world he had sworn to protect. He was a man of the Guard, a soldier in the Order of the Iron Seal, a title that carried...
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