The Distant Threshold
The bell in the tower of the Abbey of St. Jude had cracked long before you were born, a fissure running through the bronze like a vein of dried blood, and it is this crack that you have been listening for, this specific, high-pitched whine that precedes the tolling, the sound of metal tearing itself away from its own history, as you stand in the center of the Great Hall where the air tastes of...
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