The Distant Summer
The fire did not roar. It whispered. It moved through the thatch of the chapel roof with a soft, dry hiss, like a secret shared between old friends. Cael sat on the stone floor. His hands were empty. They had been empty for three days. The village was gone. Not destroyed. Just... absent. The houses stood, but the people did not. They had fled to the hills two nights prior. They had taken their...
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