The Distant Nightmare
The old stag had been with me since the first frost, his antlers a tangle of bone and sorrow that seemed to map the very topography of my failing mind, yet as I sat in the high watchtower of the Ironwood Keep, watching the mist roll in from the valley below like a slow, white tide, I felt a profound and quiet betrayal settle into my marrow, for the creature who had once carried me through the...
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