The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-23 03:23:26 -

The decree lay on the desk, the wax seal broken, the ink still wet with the smell of iron and authority. I read it three times, my finger tracing the jagged edge of the paper where the scribe’s quill had pressed too hard. It stated simply that all medicinal stocks, including the Sun-Root Tincture, were now reserved for the war effort. I looked up at the window. The light was thin, a pale grey...

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