The Distant Metropolis
The rain fell on the cobblestones of Aethelgard with the persistence of a judge delivering a verdict, washing the grime from the gutters but never quite reaching the hollows in the stones where the shadow of the city’s great clock tower pooled. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the precipice, his fingers white-knuckled against the iron railing, the metallic taste of fear and rust filling his...
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