The Faded Sutra
The mud on the road was thick and black, clinging to the wheels of the cart with a persistence that felt almost personal, as if the earth itself were trying to hold the travelers back. Elias Thorne sat in the driver’s seat, his back straight against the wooden slats, his hands resting on the reins not with the casual ease of a merchant but with the rigid tension of a man holding back a flood....
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