The Distant Legend
The letter lay open on the wet flagstones, the ink blurred by the rain that had been falling for three days straight. Elias Thorne did not read it immediately; he stood in the courtyard, his hands wrapped around a cracked clay pot, feeling the cold seep through his fingers, while the magistrate’s carriage crunched over the gravel with a sound like breaking bones. The document was a final notice...
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