The Faded Road
The rain did not fall so much as it descended, a thick, gray curtain that erased the horizon and turned the world into a suspended breath of wet wool and cold stone. Elias Thorne stood at the threshold of the manor, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword that was not steel, but a polished rod of dark glass, smooth and cold to the touch, humming with a low frequency that vibrated in his teeth....
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