The Distant Promise
The fog rolled off the marshes, thick as wool, swallowing the lanterns of Blackwood Hall one by one. I tightened my grip on the pommel of my sword. The leather was slick with sweat. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. A soldier’s duty is not to question. It is to endure. But the silence of the night was heavier than the armor I wore. It pressed against my eardrums. It tasted of...
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