The Pale Mist
The blacksmith’s hammer rang out a sharp, metallic clatter against the anvil, a sound that cut through the damp chill of the morning and forced Elias to lift his head from the ledger he had been staring at, his eyes burning from the strain of trying to decipher the cramped, fading script of the town’s oldest records. He looked up, expecting to see the blacksmith, or perhaps his apprentice, but...
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