The Distant Journey
The bell tower cracked. Not with a sound. With a shudder. Silence followed. Heavy. Wet. Elara stood in the courtyard. She held her coat. It was grey. Wool. Heavy. It had belonged to her sister. Mara. Mara was gone. The sky above was wrong. Purple. Swirling. The town of Oakhaven lay still. Elara was a scholar of history. Or had been. Before the change. She adjusted the collar of the coat. It...
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