The Distant Clue
The cold in the cellar of Aldric Manor did not sit on the skin; it burrowed into the marrow, a damp chill that smelled of wet stone and old rat dropping. You, Elias, woke with a gasp, your hands still trembling from the dream where the flagstones of the courtyard had shattered into a thousand jagged shards of green glass, each fragment reflecting your own terrified face back at you. It was the...
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