The Distant Summer

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2026-08-17 14:12:02 -

The wine was red. Darker than blood. Thicker. It pooled in the trench of my wrist where the iron bit in. I did not feel the pain. I felt only the taste. A metallic tang that coated the tongue, sweet and rotting. It was the taste of the cellar. The taste of the old years. We were gathered in the Great Hall. The air was thick with smoke and sweat. The candles were tall. They burned low. The wax...

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