The Distant Blade
The air in the hall tastes of burnt sugar and iron, a cloying sweetness that clings to the back of your throat. You are standing in the center of the room, surrounded by the faces of your neighbors, their eyes wide with a mixture of pity and hunger. They are smiling, but the smiles do not reach their eyes; they are masks, brittle and thin, ready to crack under the weight of what is about to...
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