The Faded Frequency
The rain fell upon the thatched roof of the manor with the persistence of a debt that could not be repaid, a steady, rhythmic drumming that marked the passing of hours in the old, stone-walled house where the air tasted of damp earth and stale wax. Elias Thorne sat by the dying fire, his hands wrapped around a mug of tea that had long since lost its warmth, his eyes fixed on the object resting...
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