The Distant Metropolis
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a thick, grey curtain that blurred the edges of the world and turned the cobblestones of the ancient city into mirrors of shattered light, while Elara walked with her boots sinking deep into the mud that smelled of iron and old blood, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps that misted before her face in the cold, damp chill that seeped...
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