The Faded Paradox
The rain in the Iron Keep did not fall so much as it seeped, a cold, persistent damp that settled into the bones and the stone alike, turning the courtyard into a slick, mirror-like expanse where the reflections of the torches writhed like dying things. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood at the center of this wet arena, his fingers wrapped tightly around a silver signet ring, the metal biting into his...
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