The Distant Journey

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2026-08-21 23:21:07 -

The hawk sat on the iron gate. Its feathers were ruffled by a wind that did not move the air, yet it felt heavy, thick with the scent of old stone and damp earth. I watched it. It watched me. We were two points in a vast, grey geometry, locked in a silence that hummed with the tension of a drawn bowstring. My name is Elias. I am a man of the Court. Not the poets’ court of verse and wine, but...

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