The Distant Clue
The dream came first, as it often did, a haze of white dust and the sharp, metallic taste of iron in the mouth. In the vision, the village of Oakhaven was not a place of living men and women, but a collection of shadows stretched thin over a field of salt. And in the center of that salt, there was a mark. Not a word, not a sentence, but a sigil, a complex knot of lines that seemed to breathe,...
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