The Distant Crown

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2026-08-19 13:27:22 -

The Distant Crown

The snow did not fall; it hovered. It hung in the air like a suspended judgment, a thousand white flakes refusing to touch the ground, suspended in the thin, freezing breath of the monastery. I watched them from the high window of the scriptorium, my fingers stained with oak gall ink and the cold. My hands were trembling, not from the chill that seeped through the stone, but from the hunger...

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