The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-20 20:55:02 -

The rain did not fall. It hung. A gray curtain of mist, thick as wool, wrapped the valley. I tightened the strap of my pack. The leather bit into my shoulder. "Stay close, Thomas," I whispered. Thomas did not answer. He was a shadow against the fog. He held the lantern. The flame was blue. It did not flicker. We walked on the path. The stones were slick. Moss grew in the cracks. Green. Bright....

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