The Faded Portrait
The chandelier in the Grand Hall of the Border Warden’s Institute swayed gently, casting a fractured, diamond-like light over the sea of faces that had gathered to honor the end of an era, a celebration that Elias Thorne observed with the detached, weary precision of a man who had spent twenty years staring at the void where the country ended and the wilderness began. He stood by the heavy oak...
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