The Distant Blade
The road into the valley of Aethelgard was not a path so much as a scar, a long, winding gouge in the earth that seemed to breathe with the slow, damp exhale of the mist rising from the river below. Caelen walked it with the heavy, rhythmic tread of a man whose bones had long since surrendered to the weight of his duty, his boots sinking into the mud that clung to the soles like a second skin,...
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