The Distant Threshold
The smell of burnt caramel and stale tobacco hung thick in the dining room, a heavy blanket that settled over the silverware and the nervous faces of the guests. Elias Thorne stood by the sideboard, his twelve-year-old frame rigid, listening to the clatter of forks against porcelain. He was waiting for his father to call him forward, to present the brass astrolabe that sat on the mantle like a...
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