The Distant Ghost
The chain links on your wrists number forty-two. You count them as the cell door slams, the iron clanging against the stone. Each link is cold, rusted at the joints, smelling of old blood and damp earth. You are Elias Thorne, Captain of the Iron Guard, and in six hours you will stand before the High Council to answer for treason. The want in your gut is simple: clear your name. The obstacle is...
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