The Distant Nightmare

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2026-08-17 14:06:13 -

The dream did not come to me in fragments, as dreams often do, but in a single, unbroken breath of cold air and the scent of rotting honey. I stood in a courtyard that was not of this earth, nor of any earth I had known in my long service to the Crown, a place where the stones were black and wept a viscous, amber fluid that smelled of old age and decay. In the center of this weeping stone sat a...

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