The Distant Journey
The rain had been falling for three days, a gray, relentless sheet that blurred the world outside the window of the Blackwood manor. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool and old paper, the kind of silence that settles into the bones of a house that has seen too many winters. Elias Thorne sat in the high-backed chair by the fireplace, his hands clasped over the knee of his...
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