The Distant Clue
The fire did not start with a spark, but with a breath. It was a cold, grey morning in the city of Veridia, where the fog rolled in from the harbor like a ghostly tide, swallowing the cobblestones and the iron railings of the bridges until only the tops of the gas lamps remained, burning with a pale, sickly light. Elias Thorne stood in the center of his workshop, a tailor’s shop that smelled of...
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