The Distant Ghost
The iron gate groaned as it swung shut behind Sir Alaric Thorne. The sound was a long, metallic scream that cut through the silence of the courtyard. He did not look back. He could not. To look back was to invite the past to follow him into the dark. He stood in the center of the yard. The stones were slick with rain. The sky above was a bruised purple, heavy with clouds that had not moved in...
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