The Distant Promise
The rain had been falling for three days, a steady, gray curtain that blurred the edge of the moor and turned the footpath into a slick ribbon of mud. Elias Thorne walked with a limp that had become as natural to him as the rhythm of his own breathing, his heavy wool coat soaked through to the skin, the fabric clinging to his shoulders like a second, heavier skin. He was not walking to escape...
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