The Distant Journey
The candle sputtered, casting long, trembling shadows against the damp stone walls of the archive, where I sat hunched over a desk that seemed to shrink with every passing hour. In the center of the wood, half-buried in a pile of unsorted parish records, lay the cracked porcelain bell, its glaze faded to a ghostly white, humming a low, persistent note that only my ears could catch. It was a...
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