The Distant Blade
Elias woke with the taste of iron on his tongue. It was a thick, cold metal, coating the back of his throat. He lay in the narrow bed of the boarding house, staring at the water stain on the ceiling that looked like a map of some forgotten river. The rain tapped against the windowpane. A steady, rhythmic drumming. It sounded like a heartbeat. Or a clock winding down. He sat up. The sheets were...
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