The Distant Journey

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 18:15:07 -

The wind did not blow in the Hall of Glass. It whispered. It seeped through the stone cracks like cold water, carrying the scent of wet moss and old iron. Brother Silas sat in the corner, his knees drawn to his chest. He was a small man, bent by decades of listening, his hands rough as bark. Across the room, Lord Vane stood by the window. The window was not glass, but a sheet of polished...

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