The Faded Paradox
The road to Oakhaven was not merely a path of dirt and stone but a wound in the earth that bled mud into the boots of those who walked it, a journey that seemed to stretch endlessly before the small, pale figure of Elias Thorne. He walked with a stiffness in his left knee, a relic of a childhood fall, and his hands, usually steady when holding a silver bowl, trembled slightly as he clutched the...
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