The Distant Legend
The ink on the ledger page had dried to a brittle brown, flaking off under the pressure of Elias Thorne’s thumbnail like dead skin. He sat at the edge of his cot in the temporary office of the 14th Infantry, the room smelling of stale tobacco and the metallic tang of wet wool. Outside, the rain lashed against the single pane of glass, blurring the gray expanse of the moor into a smear of...
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