The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-20 08:10:25 -

The banquet hall smelled of roasted lamb and old dust, a scent that had seeped into the plaster over centuries. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the long oak table, his hands resting on the back of a carved chair. He was a man of modest stature but immense attention to detail, a craftsman who had spent forty years repairing the mechanisms of the world. His fingers, mapped with fine scars,...

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