The Distant Journey
The rain fell in sheets, cold and unyielding, striking the mud of the valley with a rhythmic, dull thud. You stood at the edge of the forest, your cloak heavy with water, the fabric clinging to your shoulders like a second skin. It was a garment of deep wool, dyed in a shade of indigo that had once been vibrant but was now faded to a bruised gray. The threads were worn thin at the elbows,...
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