The Distant Journey
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, cold sheet that turned the cobblestones of the courtyard into a slick, black mirror reflecting the grey sky above, and within the stone walls of the Citadel, the air was thick with the scent of wet wool, stale bread, and the metallic tang of old blood that seemed to have seeped into the very mortar of the ancient fortress, a place where the...
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