The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-22 05:25:30 -

The hall was thick with the scent of roasting lamb and stale wine. Torches burned low in the iron sconces, casting long, trembling shadows that danced against the stone walls. At the high table sat Lord Aldric. He looked small. He looked frail. His hands, once strong enough to bend a bowstring, now trembled in his lap. Beside him sat his wife, Elara. She did not look at him. She looked at the...

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