The Distant Crown
The road to the High Keep was not a road at all, but a wound in the earth, a jagged scar of mud and broken stones that we dragged our weary bodies across while the rain fell in sheets that tasted of iron and old ash. I walked with my back to the storm, my hands clutching the hilt of a sword that felt too heavy for my arm, the leather grip slick with sweat and the cold sweat that beads on the...
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