The Distant Blade
The blade did not cut the air so much as it divided the silence, a long, unbroken exhalation of steel that hung suspended in the dim, amber light of the auction house’s private viewing room, where the dust motes danced with a frantic, microscopic vitality around the edges of the glass case. Elias Vane stood before it, his hands clasped behind his back, the knuckles white and trembling with a...
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