The Distant Clue
The dream began not with light, but with the weight of the air, a thick, amber suspension that tasted of dried lavender and old iron. In this realm, which the chronicles later termed the Aetheric Hollow, the sky was not a void but a solid canopy of woven silver threads, humming with a low, persistent chord that vibrated in the teeth. Julian Vane, a man whose face had been carved from patience...
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