The Pale Echo
The stone walls of the fortress cell wept with a dampness that seemed to seep into Elias Thorne’s bones, a cold, persistent chill that mirrored the tremor in his hands. He stood before the iron bars, his armor clinking softly with every slight shift of his weight, the metal still stained with the grime of the recent siege. Across the narrow space, huddled in the corner where the light failed to...
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