The Distant Threshold
The road to the Hollows was not a road at all but a suggestion of passage, a ribbon of packed earth that dissolved into the mist as it climbed the ridge. You walked it with a heavy step, your boots sinking into the mud that had turned to clay under the weight of centuries of rain. In your hands, you carried a lantern that burned with a blue, cold flame, and against your chest, wrapped in...
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