The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-20 05:38:19 -

The mud of the valley floor was not merely wet; it was a living, sucking entity, a dark mirror that held the reflection of a sky choked with ash and smoke. Thomas Bradshaw moved through it with the slow, deliberate gait of a man whose knees had long since surrendered their youthful spring, each step a negotiation with the gravity that seemed heavier here than in the higher lands. He was a tall...

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