And so the weary traveler rest upon a bed of silk and hay, closing their eyes and taking a long breath before slowly floating away, aflame with the melancholy tears of the dead, ghosts watching over their journey, rising to greet them.
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And so the weary traveler rest upon a bed of silk and hay, closing their eyes and taking a long breath before slowly floating away, aflame with the melancholy tears of the dead, ghosts watching over their journey, rising to greet them.