The Distant Journey

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2026-08-19 09:53:21 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a persistent, grey mist that settled into the joints of the old brickwork and the crevices of the cobblestones, creating a dampness that seemed to seep into the very marrow of things, a quiet, insistent erosion that no amount of scrubbing or varnishing could ever truly halt or reverse. You stood in the center of the great hall of the Whitmore...

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