The Distant Blade
The feast was a lie, a hollow echo of the grandeur Elias had spent a decade trying to resurrect. He stood in the center of the main hall of the Distant Blade, his ancestral keep, watching the dust motes dance in the shafts of late afternoon light that pierced the high, narrow windows. The stone floor was cold under his shoes, a chill that seemed to seep up through the soles and into his bones....
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