The Distant Blade
The seal on the clay vial was cracked, a hairline fracture that Elias felt with his thumb before he even opened the door to the Abbey of St. Jude, the scent of wet wool and stale incense hitting him like a physical blow as he stepped off the frozen cart. He had walked for three days through the sleet, the vial wrapped in oilskin against his ribs, its weight a constant, humming pressure that...
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