The Distant Threshold

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 23:40:44 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a fine, grey mist that settled into the wool of my coat and the creases of my hands. I stood at the edge of the mill town of Oakhaven, watching the last of my apprentices climb the muddy slope toward the village square. Their backs were bent against the wind, their lanterns flickering like dying stars in the encroaching dark. I did not wave....

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