The Faded Chronicle

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2026-08-18 07:53:39 -

The rain did not fall. It hovered. I stood at the gate of the manor, my hands bound in iron. The metal bit into my wrists. It was cold. Colder than the air. Colder than the earth. I looked back at you. Margaret. You stood behind the hedge. Your face was pale. Your eyes were wet. You did not cry. You just watched. "Go," I said. My voice was rough. It sounded like gravel. "You must not," you...

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