The Pale Banner
The rain had not stopped for three days. It fell on the stone streets of Oakhaven not as water, but as a fine, grey dust that settled in the crevices of the cobblestones and the hollows of the soldiers’ armor. Elias Thorne walked through the downpour with a gait that was slow, deliberate, and heavy, as if the mud itself had a grudge against his boots. He was not a man who spoke much, and he...
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