The Faded Frontier
The separation of Brother Julian from the Abbey of St. Jude was not marked by the ringing of a bell or the tearing of a robe, but by the quiet, deliberate act of placing his silver keys onto the cold stone of the infirmary table. They lay there, two small, heavy anchors against the grain of the wood, gleaming with a dull, persistent light that seemed to absorb the gray morning air. Julian stood...
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