The Faded Masquerade
The rain fell on the cobblestones of Ashwick like a gray sheet being shaken out by a grieving god. It was a persistent, cold drizzle that did not wash the streets clean but merely made the grime slicker, turning the ancient city into a mirror of its own decay. Elara Vance walked through the mist, her boots heavy with mud and the weight of a secret that had grown roots in her chest. She was a...
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