The Faded Road
The rain did not fall. It hovered. A thick, grey mist clung to the stone walls of the Keep, dampening the air until every breath tasted of wet iron and old decay. Sir Elias stood alone in the center of the great hall. The torches sputtered, their flames low and weak, casting long, trembling shadows that seemed to reach for him. He was still. He had been still for a long time. His armor, once...
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