The Distant Clue
The first thing you notice is not the darkness, but the cold, a specific, biting chill that settles into the marrow of your left hand as you stand in the center of the Great Hall, your body a vessel for a silence so heavy it presses against your eardrums like deep water. You are Elias Thorne, a clerk of minor significance, a man whose life has been defined by the precise alignment of ledgers...
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