The Distant Joke
The road to the village of Oakhaven was a ribbon of mud and broken stone, slick with the rain that had fallen without cease for three days, turning the world into a smear of grey and brown. Elias walked with the heavy, deliberate gait of a man who carries a weight invisible to the eye, his pack digging into shoulders that had not known rest in a fortnight. He was thirty years old, though the...
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