The Distant Journey

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2026-08-20 05:14:37 -

The jar sat on the high shelf of the apothecary, a vessel of obsidian glass that seemed to drink the dim light of the shop, holding within it a substance that was less a liquid and more a suspended galaxy of iridescent dust. It was called the Mote of Aethelgard, a legacy of the old alchemists, a powder said to preserve the essence of a moment forever, to halt the decay of the soul if...

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