The Distant Promise
Elias. The name hung in the damp air of the study, spoken not by a living voice but by the settling of the floorboards, a sound like a dry leaf snapping under a heavy boot. I am Elias Thorne, thirty-two years old, a botanist by trade and a caretaker by compulsion, and I want the last viable seed pod of the *Aethelgard* fern before the autumn frost kills it. The opposing force is the house...
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