The Distant Promise

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2026-08-23 08:22:06 -

The candle stub in Elara’s hand was cold, its wax hardened into a brittle, yellowed ridge that cracked under her thumb. She held it tight, the only solid thing in the drafty stone keep of Blackwood, where the wind howled through the arrow slits like a dying man. Her son, Thomas, lay on the straw pallet, his skin the color of old parchment, his breathing a wet, rattling whisper that seemed to...

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