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... Mountain.
The mountain wind swept away the clouds above, revealing rolling tides of mist cascading over peaks within peaks.
Wisps of fog drifted like silk across a solitary gravestone on the cold, lonely mountain, brushing past both the tomb and the youth kneeling before it.
He looked no more than sixteen, an age of proud horses and fine clothes, of reckless confidence and unbridled ambition.
But the grave had stood there for over 50 years.
He said nothing ...
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