The Wistful Atlas

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2026-08-18 05:14:07 -

The Wistful Atlas

The tower was burning. You stood in the courtyard, your hands still raw from the grip of the sword, watching the flames lick up the white stone of the Keep. It was the old stone, the kind that had held the fort for three centuries. It did not crack. It only glowed, a dull, angry red, as if the building itself were in pain. Above you, the sky was a bruised purple, thick with smoke that smelled...

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