The Distant Journey
The bone was cold in Elias Thorne’s palm, a jagged shard of something ancient and white that had once been part of a larger whole. He held it up to the gray light filtering through the high windows of the Captain’s office, turning it slowly to check the new fissure that had appeared overnight. The crack ran deep, splitting the charm almost in two, and when he whispered a lie about the wind in...
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