The Distant Nightmare
The fog rolled in from the harbor, thick and white as a shroud, swallowing the cobblestones of the old town until the world was reduced to a single, trembling point of light in the window of the Inquisitor’s tower. Julian Vane stood at the glass, his breath misting against the cold pane, watching the mist crawl over the spires of the cathedral. He did not see a man waiting to die; he saw a...
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