The Pale Verdict
The bell tolled once. It hung in the throat of the valley, a heavy iron tongue that had not tasted silence in a thousand years. Elara stood at the edge of the cliff. The wind pulled at her cloak, a grey shroud in a world of grey stone. She did not look back. There was nothing to see behind her. Only the road. Only the dust. She walked. The stones were slick with frost. Her boots, worn thin at...
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