The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-20 10:52:20 -

The iron seal was cold in your hand, a small, square weight of silence that pressed against your palm like a bruise. You stood in the antechamber of the High King’s court, the air thick with the scent of beeswax and old stone. Through the double doors, the murmur of the council drifted out, a low, rhythmic hum that sounded like blood moving through veins. You were a soldier, but today you wore...

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