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The Distant ThresholdThe dream was always the same: a black crow perched on the dead oak at the edge of Oakhaven, its feathers absorbing the grey morning light until it seemed less like a bird and more like a hole in the world. Elias Thorne woke with the taste of iron in his mouth, the cold damp of the cellar pressing against his back. He was forty-two, a sergeant in the local militia, and for the last three days,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Pale AltarThe riot started with a shout that sounded like a crack of dry wood, and then the processing center was a blur of swinging arms and the acrid smell of sweat and fear. I was on the floor, my shoulder screaming in a way that felt like a broken bone, while the suspect thrashed above me, his eyes wide and wild, his hands clawing at the air. I managed to pin his wrist to the linoleum, my knee...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Golden RitualThe heavy iron tongs, pitted with rust and bent from years of prying stubborn latches, lay in Elias Thorne’s palm, the metal cold against the sweat of his grip. He sat at the long oak table in the village hall of Oakhaven, the air thick with the smell of roasted goose and the sharp, metallic tang of the sickness that was eating his left leg alive. The annual harvest feast was in full swing, the...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant AffairThorne, stop standing there like a man waiting for a verdict and pick up your glass. You are Elias Thorne, and the crystal in your hand is heavy, colder than the air in the banquet hall, which is suffocatingly warm under the weight of two hundred people celebrating the twenty-year anniversary of the Meridian Bridge, the structure you have maintained with the devotion of a monk tending a shrine,...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Faded SutraThe ink was wet, though the page was dry. Elias Thorne stared at the ledger entry, his hand trembling so violently that the pen scratched a thin, white line through the margin. The date read October 14, 2024. Sarah had died in 2021. The signature was hers, the loops of the 'S' tight and defensive, just as she had signed checks when the bank fees bit them. He looked up, expecting Halloway to be...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant GhostThe snow had not yet fallen, but the air in the High Court tasted of ice. I stood before the Chancellor, my hands clasped tight enough to whiten the knuckles, and waited for a word. The chamber was vast and cold, the stone walls sweating with the damp breath of the autumn season. My brother, Cillian, had served twenty years in the Crown’s armies. He had bled for the realm in the border wars. He...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Wistful WitnessThe first thing I counted was the seconds. One, two, three, four. The pause in the silence lasted exactly four beats before the arrhythmia stuttered back into a rhythm. I stood in the lobby of St. Jude’s Hospital, the air thick with the scent of old floor wax and damp plaster, and I felt the vibration in my molars. It was a low, subsonic hum, like a refrigerator running in a sealed room. My...0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews
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The Pale DanceThe glass was the color of a bruise, a sickly, pale violet that pulsed in the furnace’s heat, and I could not stop blowing into the pipe. My lungs burned with a phantom weight, a heavy, wet drag that made each exhale a labor of survival. Silas stood beside me, his face hollow, his mouth moving in time with mine, stealing the air before it reached the molten silica. I have been a master...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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The Distant GardenThe dream was always the same, a loop of wet earth and wool, where the uniform of his father, Elias, lay discarded in a ditch, the mud caked so thickly into the fabric that it looked less like dirt and more like the skin of a dead animal, and when he woke, the cold air of the border station’s dormitory hitting his face, his first instinct was not to reach for the water on the nightstand but for...0 Comments 0 Shares 0 Views 0 Reviews
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