The Faded Guest
The fog rolled off the river like a living thing. It swallowed the cobblestones. It swallowed the torchlight. I held my sword tight. My hands shook. Not from cold. From fear. Eleanor walked ahead of me. Her dress was white. It was dirty now. Mud and blood. She did not look back. She never looked back. We were leaving the city. The gates were open. The guards let us pass. No one asked questions....
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