The Pale Path
The cobblestones of Aethelgard did not merely support the weight of the weary travelers who traversed them but seemed to swallow the sound of their footsteps into a silence so profound it felt like a physical pressure against the eardrums, a hush that was less an absence of noise and more a presence, a thick and velvet curtain drawn tight around the heart of the city where the air tasted of old...
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