The Distant Affair
The ink in the well had turned to rust. Silas Vance stood before it, his reflection fractured by the murky surface. He was a man of iron and silence, a warrior who had spent forty years holding the line for his house. Now, the line was gone. Only the house remained. It stood on the hill, a monument to a time that no longer existed, its windows dark like unseeing eyes. He looked down at his...
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