The Distant Blade

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2026-08-22 07:31:56 -

The Distant Blade

The mist breathed. It was a cold, rhythmic exhalation that smelled of iron and old graves, curling around the ankles of Elias Thorne as he stood before the Obsidian Gate. He was thirty years old, a scribe of the High Court of Aethelgard, and his hands trembled not from the chill, but from the weight of the petition clutched in his left fist. For three years, his sister Mara had been inside....

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