The Pale Meridian
The line appeared at dusk, a hair-thin streak of pale light that cut across the valley like a scar on the skin of the earth. It was visible only to those who had served the village of Oakhaven for a decade, a rule as strict as the law I enforced, and I had spent the last ten years of my life trying to document it before my pension was finalized. My name was Elias Thorne, and I was a constable,...
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