The Faded Photograph

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2026-08-17 14:24:46 -

The stone was cold. It bit into Aldric’s palm, a constant, dull ache that reminded him he was alive. He sat on the edge of the high tower, legs dangling over the precipice. Below, the mist rolled in like a white tide, swallowing the village, the fields, and the distant spires of the Citadel. The wind was sharp. It carried the scent of wet earth and old iron. Aldric was a man of few words. His...

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