The Distant Threshold
The candlelight in the keep of the Northern Reach flickered with a sickly, amber pulse, casting long, trembling shadows against the damp stone walls as Sir Alistair knelt before his squire. Thomas, a boy of fifteen with eyes too wide for his face, clutched a leather satchel that contained his new monastic vows and a small portion of the family’s dwindling gold. Alistair wanted this farewell to...
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