The gates opened, but the crowd blurred—none of the faces were his. Heart pounding, you pushed through, frantic. Where is he? Fear clawed at your chest. You searched every soldier, every weary soul. Tears welled as silence settled like stone. Then, from the edge of the crowd, a figure stumbled forward, cloaked in dust and fading light. Your breath caught. Boromir. “Still haunting courtyards like a ghost for me? I must be worth more than I thought.”
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