The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-18 01:33:28 -

The river that bisected the valley of Oakhaven did not flow so much as it exhaled, a long, slow breath of cold, black water that carried the silt of centuries in its belly, and I rode along its muddy bank on a horse that smelled of sweat and iron, my armor chafing against my shoulders with a friction that felt less like physical pain and more like a slow, grinding erosion of my own soul, for I...

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