The Distant Journey
The bell in the tower did not ring. It hummed. A low, thrumming vibration that I felt in my teeth before I heard it with my ears. I stood at the threshold of the Abbey, my boots heavy on the cold stone. The air smelled of wet moss and old iron. I had come here to find the Architect. I had come here to end the silence. My name is Thomas. I was a man of the King’s Guard. My hands were steady. My...
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