The Faded Quadrant

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2026-08-22 22:20:11 -

The wind off the river did not howl so much as it groaned, a low, wet sound that seemed to come from the bones of the stone watchtower itself. Elias Thorne stood in the doorway, his breath pluming in the freezing air, waiting for the boy to finish his sentence. The young man, no older than twenty-two, stood with his hands bound behind his back, his face pale and tight with a fear that was not...

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