The Distant Ghost
The year was 1348, and the air in the cathedral nave tasted of wet chalk and old iron. Elias, a mason of forty years with hands mapped by scars and calluses, stood before the unfinished spire, his chisel resting against a block of limestone that hummed with a frequency he could feel in his teeth. The guild’s debt was a noose around his neck, a debt that would take every stone, every hour, and...
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