The Faded Masquerade
The road was a scar of white stone across the green valley. Elara walked it. She walked it for days. Her boots were thin. The leather had cracked. The cold bit through to the bone. She carried a bundle on her back. It was heavy. Inside was a cloak. It was woven of silver thread. It shimmered like moonlight on water. It was the only thing of value she owned. It was the only thing that remembered...
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