The Distant Blade

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2026-08-24 07:26:02 -

The Distant Blade

The candle flame in the scriptorium of St. Jude’s did not flicker; it burned with a steady, terrible clarity that illuminated the grain of the oak table and the deepening wrinkles of Elias’s hands. He was forty years old, a scribe who had wandered from parish to parish for a decade, seeking work that would pay off the debt of his father’s failed mill, a debt that had followed him like a shadow...

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