The Distant Affair
You wake with the taste of copper in your mouth. It is not blood, not yet. It is the residue of a dream that has bled into the waking world. You are in a room in London. It is a city of stone and mist, but the mist here tastes of old iron. You are not a citizen. You are a stranger who has crossed the sea, carrying nothing but a name that does not fit the tongue. Your name is Elias. You are a...
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