The Faded Frontier
The dream was always the same. Black bread, dense and cold, crumbling against the teeth. Elias Thorne woke with the taste of ash on his tongue and the tremor in his hands that had become his constant companion over the last three months. He was thirty-four, a warden of the Abbey of St. Jude, and he had served twelve years in the shadow of the refectory. He wanted to sign the final charter. He...
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