The Faded Paradox
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, grey weeping that turned the cobblestones of the lower courtyard into a slick, black mirror reflecting the towering, moss-eaten spires of the Keep, and it was into this damp, echoing silence that Sir Julian Thorne stepped, his boots heavy with the mud of a world he was trying to understand, for he was not merely a knight of the King’s...
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