The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-18 15:56:13 -

The Wistful Petal

The gate of the Citadel was not merely a door; it was a judgment suspended in stone. For three hundred years, the iron bars had held the wind at bay, and for three hundred years, I had been the hand upon the latch. We called it the Keep, though it was less a fortress and more a throat, swallowing the city’s noise and exhaling silence. I was not a guard in the traditional sense. I did not carry...

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