The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-20 09:39:19 -

The feast hall of the Abbey of Saint Jude smells of roasted swan and stale incense, the air so thick with candlelight and the heavy, cloying scent of boiled pork that it feels less like air and more like a warm, wet wool blanket pressed over your face. You are sitting at the lower table, your hands tucked into your sleeves to hide the trembling, your eyes fixed on the polished wood where the...

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