The Faded Road

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 11:43:44 -

The Faded Road

The cloak was woven from the shadow of a single, dying star. It hung on the hook by the door, a heavy, velvet thing that smelled of iron and old rain. I had worn it for thirty years. It was my skin, my shield, my name. Without it, I was nothing but a hollow reed in the wind. I lived in Oakhaven. The town was small, tucked into a valley where the mist never fully lifted. We were a people of...

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