The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-17 12:07:20 -

You stand before the great oak door of the manor, your knuckles white against the cold iron handle, listening to the wind howl through the branches like the voices of the dead who have been waiting for centuries to be heard, and you feel the weight of the leather satchel against your hip, a weight that has grown heavier with every mile you have walked from the distant capital, carrying within...

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