The Distant Journey

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 05:29:43 -

The mist hangs low over the highlands today, thick as wool and cold as grave dirt. I sit at my desk, the ink freezing in the nib, and I think of the Iron Cloak. It hangs by the door, a dark, heavy thing that seems to pull at the air around it. You remember it, Clara? Thomas wore it the last time we saw him. Now it is mine, or perhaps I am its. Three years have passed since they took him, and...

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