The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-18 00:28:03 -

The iron gate rattled. It was a sound that vibrated in the teeth, a low, grinding complaint of metal against stone. "You are late, Ashworth," said the Warden. His voice was dry, like leaves scraping on pavement. He stood in the archway, his shadow falling across the courtyard. "The bell has tolled twice." Thomas Ashworth did not look up. He was adjusting the straps of his breastplate. The...

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