The Faded Dust

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2026-08-21 08:57:46 -

The Faded Dust

The rain did not fall so much as it insisted, a gray, persistent drizzle that turned the cobblestones of the courtyard into slick, black mirrors. Thomas Ashworth stood beneath the heavy oak doorframe, his hand resting on the cold iron of the gate. He was a man built for endurance, his shoulders broad and squared, his face a map of old scars and older decisions. He wore the dark, heavy wool of...

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