The Distant Promise
The candle flame in the scriptorium of the Abbey of St. Jude trembles, a fragile orange eye in the darkness, reflecting the damp chill that seeps through the stone walls and settles into your bones. You are twelve years old, Elias, and your hands are stained with the black ink of the *Book of Hours*, a testament to the three months you have spent hunched over the vellum, your spine curving...
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