The Distant Crown
The air tasted of copper and ozone. Mara stood in the center of the white void. The floor was not floor. It was a membrane of light, trembling beneath her bare feet. Above, the sky was a bruised purple, swirling with clouds that looked like ink dropped in water. There was no horizon. Only the endless, blinding white that receded into a point of absolute silence. She was fighting. Not with...
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