The Distant Blade
The frost had come down hard and fast, a sudden, silencing weight that buried the town of Oakhaven under a blanket of white so thick it seemed to swallow the very concept of distance, and I stood at the gate of the old watchtower, the cold biting into my knuckles where they gripped the hilt of the sword that had been my father’s, then his father’s, a lineage of steel that felt less like a...
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