The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-19 13:25:52 -

The wind off the moor carried the scent of wet wool and old blood. Silas stood at the edge of the cliff, his breath shallow in the freezing air. He was a man carved from the same stone as the landscape, broad and silent, with hands that had held a sword and now held only the reins of a weary horse. The kingdom was at war, but here, in the gray twilight, there was only the silence of the heath....

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