The Wistful Silence
The road that wound through the highlands of the Scottish border was not merely a path of packed earth and loose shale, but a living vein of grey stone that bled under the weight of the carriage wheels, carrying Elara and her silent, stone-faced driver, Thomas, into a fog so thick and pervasive it seemed to have substance, a heavy, wet wool that muffled the sound of the world until the only...
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