The Wistful Show
The rain hammered against the high, narrow windows of the infirmary, a relentless drumming that seemed to vibrate in the very stones of the border fortress. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood by the barred door of the small holding cell, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, though the blade was dull and the leather strap frayed. Inside, Kael sat on the straw pallet, his wrists bound with rope...
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