The Distant Summer
The name came from the darkness above, a low, gravelly rasp that cut through the dust-choked air of the cellar like a wire snapping under tension. "Elias." It was not a question, nor a command, but a weight dropped into the silence, settling on the back of your neck. You did not look up. Your eyes were fixed on the small, clay vial in your left hand, the mouth stoppered with wax, containing the...
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