The Distant Clue
The dream came to Aldric Vane not as a vision, but as a sensation of weight, a heavy, cold pressure against his left eye. In the sleep, the eye was not an organ of sight but a stone, a smooth, dark pebble lodged deep within the socket, pressing back against the skull. He woke in the small hours, the air in the garrison barracks thick with the smell of damp wool and old sweat. The moonlight cut...
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