The Distant Crown
The rain hits the cobblestones like shrapnel. It is cold. It is wet. You are bleeding. The cathedral bell tolls. One stroke. Two. The sound is heavy. It shakes the dust from the rafters. You are on your knees in the nave. The marble floor is slick. Your hands press flat against the stone. It is cold. It is hard. You are Captain Elias Thorne. You are the warden of the city. You are the law. But...
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