The Distant Nightmare
The rain did not fall so much as it settled, a gray mist that clung to the wool of her coat and the damp earth of the ridge. Elara walked with the rhythmic, hollow thud of boots that had long since lost their leather lining. She was not quite a woman, nor a ghost, but something in the negative space between the two, a creature of pure function. Her body was a vessel, hollowed out by decades of...
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