The Distant Legend
The mist in the highlands does not merely obscure; it remembers. It is a thick, grey blanket that settles into the crevices of the stone, carrying with it the distorted echoes of voices long since silenced by earth or steel. I am Elias Thorne, a border warden of forty-two years, and for three days I have climbed the treacherous slopes toward Blackwood Keep, my body aching with a cold that seems...
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