The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-21 20:36:15 -

The iron gate of the Wardens’ Quarter did not swing open so much as it yielded, a heavy, rusted sigh that seemed to exhale the breath of a century. I stood on the threshold, my boots caked in the red clay of the lower districts, feeling the weight of the bronze key ring against my hip like a chain of small, cold stars. It was a morning of thin, gray light, the kind that strips the color from...

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