The Distant Legend
The feast was held in the hollow of a valley that did not exist on any map, a place where the air tasted of copper and ancient dust. They had gathered in a circle around a fire that burned with a pale, blue-white light, consuming no wood but rather the silence between them. In the center sat Elias Thorne, a scholar of languages long dead, his hands trembling not from the cold, but from the...
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