The Wistful Skyline
The rain that fell upon the citadel of Oakhaven did not merely wet the stone; it seeped into the marrow of the ancient walls, a persistent, cold moisture that mirrored the dampness accumulating in the lungs of Captain Elias Thorne, a man whose very presence seemed to contract the air around him into a tight, suffocating knot. He stood at the edge of the rampart, his boots heavy with the clay of...
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