The Distant Whispers
The sky above the valley of Orenthal did not darken with night but with the slow, suffocating accumulation of grey dust, which fell from the heavens in a perpetual, silent snow that choked the light and turned the vibrant greens of the meadows into the pale, sickly hues of old parchment. Elara sat in the center of her study, a room that had once been a beacon of knowledge within the ancient...
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