The Distant Wound

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2026-08-23 11:56:41 -

The Distant Wound

Elias’s chisel bit into the limestone, shaving off a sliver of grey dust that drifted into his beard. The Spire of St. Jude stood against the bruised sky, a needle of stone piercing the gloom of the valley. He was forty years old, a scribe by trade, though his hands had long since forgotten the weight of a quill in favor of the hammer and chisel. The year was 1342, and the plague had taken the...

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