The Distant Promise
October 14, 1893 The chandeliers in the great hall of Blackwood Manor burn with a ferocity that seems to eat the shadows, their light catching the dust motes dancing in the air like suspended ghosts. I stand at the edge of the banquet, my hands still stained with the grey grit of the limestone I have been chipping away from the crypt walls, feeling the roughness of the stone beneath my...
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