The Faded Road
You wake with the taste of iron and honey in your mouth. It is a heavy flavor, cloying and sharp, like blood mixed with preserved fruit. You are standing in a room that smells of wet wool and old parchment. The light comes from no window you can find. It is a pale, uniform glow that seems to seep from the walls themselves, casting no shadows. You look down at your hands. They are not your...
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