The Distant Promise
The rain stopped just as the carriage left. Elias stood on the wet cobblestones. He watched the mud splash. It hit his boots. He did not wipe it. He looked at the tower. It was black against the grey sky. The stone was old. It was worn by centuries of wind and hands. He held his lantern. The glass was cracked. Light leaked out in thin, yellow lines. He was the Inquisitor. He carried a ledger....
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