The Distant Promise

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2026-08-23 07:17:14 -

The chisel slipped. It was a trivial thing, a micro-tremor in the wrist that had been building since dawn, yet the sound it made was a shriek of splintered obsidian that seemed to tear the air in the locked chamber. I watched the Master Seal of the Duke of Northumbria, the artifact I had spent thirty years maintaining, shatter into jagged shards on the granite workbench. The black ink I had...

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