The Distant Blade

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2026-08-17 21:37:10 -

The Distant Blade

The rain tasted of iron. Miles stood on the porch. He held the cane. It was black wood. Cold. Heavy. It was not a cane. It was a blade. But it looked like a cane. Miles was a scholar. He read old maps. He read dust. He lived in Oakhaven. Oakhaven was gray. The factories smoked. The sky was a bruise. Miles was not a scholar. He was a liar. Everyone knew it. Or they thought they knew it. That was...

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