The Distant Ghost
The iron lantern had not wavered in the wind for forty years, not once, not a single tremor of its flame, which burned with a cold, blue intensity that seemed to devour the shadows of the stone corridor rather than cast them, and in that light, I saw the face of the man who had betrayed me, a face that was also my own, reflected in the polished, black glass of the case that held the relic, a...
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