The Distant Garden
The mist did not drift; it pressed. It was a physical weight, a grey wool pressed against the lungs, thickening with every step I took toward the Stone Gate. I am Elias, thirty-two, a border warden of the highlands, and I have walked for three days to deliver a final letter to my brother’s widow. My name is on the roster, but the Gatekeeper, a figure of stone and silence, denies me entry. He...
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