The Distant Threshold

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 11:41:15 -

The dream always ended with the sound of breaking glass, but this time the shards remained whole in his pocket, cold and jagged against his thigh. Elias Thorne sat up in the narrow cot of his barracks, the air thick with the smell of damp wool and old sweat. He reached into his jacket. The mirror shard was there, intact, reflecting the dim light of the room with a dull, oily sheen. He had been...

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