The Distant Wound
The chisel is cold in your hand, the steel biting into your palm with a dull, persistent ache that anchors you to the physical world, pulling you back from the recurring, suffocating dream where your father’s tower crumbles into a dust that tastes of iron and regret. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two, a master mason in the rigid, stone-walled city of Oakhaven, and you have spent the last three...
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