The Distant Promise
The rain fell like a judgment. It hammered against the slate roof of the watchtower, a rhythmic, relentless drumming that filled the silence with noise. Elias stood by the narrow window, his back to the room. He held the lantern. It was an old thing, brass and glass, tarnished by years of smoke and sweat. The flame inside flickered, casting long, trembling shadows on the stone walls. He had...
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