The Distant Promise
The ice came first. It did not fall; it descended, a slow, crystalline curtain that turned the air to glass. Colonel Elias Thorne stood on the balcony of the Blackwood Manor, his breath pluming in thick, white clouds that hung heavy in the stagnant air. Below, the garden was a field of jagged teeth. The frost had claimed the roses, turning their petals into brittle, translucent shards. It was a...
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