Song for a Bard It was September, and the sun had long since set upon the city of Paris; giving up its hold to the darkness that it had so long bred within the walled citadel. And as the shadows grew in the misty, cobbled streets the moon began to rise ever higher in the cloudy sky.
From her chamber window, a young woman watched the ethereal ascent and gratefully bent her head to the fresh winds that blew through her dirty blonde hair, making an almost imperceptible smile form on her otherwise solemn face. Every night this woman opened her window and looked out to the darkened streets and the Paris Quay, taking in the beauty and the ugliness all in stride. Though the water always sparkled like a black version of Notre Dame’s mosaics, the port itself was in disrepair. And the people who walked the jetty were even worse off. From sailors, to the homeless, and the common whore- the outskirts near the docks were home, Christi
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