The Faded Road
The feast in the great hall of Aethelgard was a cacophony of silver on stone. Candles guttered in the draft, casting long, trembling shadows that danced against the tapestries. They depicted kings and queens, figures of wood and thread, frozen in eternal dignity. At the center of the table sat Lady Elara. She wore a gown of deep indigo, the color of the bruised sky before a storm. Her hands,...
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