The Distant Legend
The loom in the center of the refectory did not hum with electricity, but with a low, tectonic vibration that I felt in the marrow of my teeth before I heard it with my ears. It was a machine of dark, oiled wood and iron gears, older than the stone walls of the Abbey of Saint Jude, older perhaps than the kingdom itself, though the archives claimed otherwise. The air in the hall was thick with...
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