The Distant Ghost

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2026-08-23 22:23:16 -

The Distant Ghost

The ink was still wet on the page when Elias Thorne set down his quill, the feather trembling in his grip as if it had a pulse of its own, a fragile instrument that felt heavier than lead against the rough grain of the oak table. Outside, the air tasted of ash and wet wool, a cloying scent that clung to the back of his throat, signaling that the southern fields were burning again. He had spent...

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