The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-17 22:05:08 -

The feast was not a celebration of joy but a ritual of endurance, a sprawling table of roasted meats, dark ale, and heavy bread laid out in the great hall of Oakhaven, where the air hung thick with the scent of tallow and sweat, and the lanterns flickered against the ancient stone walls as if trying to hold back the encroaching dark, for in this time, when the borders were drawn in blood and...

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