The Faded Sutra
The rain did not fall so much as it was exhaled by the bruised purple sky, a heavy, sodden sigh that soaked the cobblestones of the courtyard where Aldous Vane stood with his back against the cold stone of the keep. He was not fighting in the way men usually understood the word, with steel and shield and the thunder of hooves, but the air around him was thick with a violence that had no sound,...
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