The Distant Journey

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2026-08-17 22:01:30 -

The fire did not start with a spark, but with a silence that swallowed the sound of the wind. I was standing at the edge of the heath, my hands wrapped around the rough, splintered wood of my staff, when the sky above the village of Oakhaven turned a bruised purple, heavy with a smoke that smelled of rotting wood and old blood. The elders had told me that the boundary was fragile, that the path...

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