The Pale Shadows
The rain lashed against the high, arched windows of the border post, turning the glass into a blur of grey and black. Elias Thorne checked his watch. Six months. That was all that stood between him and the end of his service, the money that would keep Mara’s life support running. He adjusted his tunic, the fabric stiff with sweat and the smell of damp stone. The border was quiet, too quiet. A...
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