The Distant Crown
The dampness in the cellar of the Ashworth ancestral home did not merely hang in the air; it seeped into the marrow, a cold, persistent pressure that matched the tremors now seizing Elara’s hands. She stood before the sealed iron door, a slab of rusted metal set into the ancient stone wall, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as the early onset of the degenerative nerve condition...
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