The Distant Blade
The rain in the high desert of New Mexico does not wash things clean; it only makes the dust heavier, turning the arid red soil into a thick, sucking clay that binds itself to your boots and your bones. You are standing at the edge of the ridge, looking down at the valley where the wind moves in long, ghostly sheets, and you are waiting for something that no longer exists. Your name is Elias...
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