The Distant Whispers
The rain in the city of Oakhaven did not wash things clean; it merely made the grime slicker, turning the cobblestones of the Lower Ward into a mirror that reflected the rotting timber of the tenements and the heavy, leaden sky above. Elara, thirty-two years old and junior archivist to the Guild of Waters, pulled her wool cloak tighter against the chill as she descended the spiral stairs into...
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