The Faded Ruin
The road to Oakhaven was not paved with stone but with the crushed, white bones of the old world, a skeletal highway that stretched under a sky the color of bruised plum. Elias Thorne walked it with the heavy, deliberate tread of a man carrying a weight that did not exist in the physical realm. He was a Warden of the Silence, a title that sounded noble on paper but tasted of iron and rot in the...
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