The Distant Blade
The air in the Great Hall of the Obsidian Palace tasted of iron and old dust, a metallic tang that coated the back of your throat as you stood amidst the swirling storm of royal guards, their armor clanking in a rhythm that mimicked the frantic beating of a heart about to stop. You were not a soldier, nor a prince, nor a witch of the old stories, but something far more terrible and far more...
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