The Distant Blade

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2026-08-18 21:57:33 -

The Distant Blade

I woke with the taste of iron and old rain on my tongue, the dream still clinging to the back of my eyes like a film of oil on water, and I knew before I opened them that the oak tree in the center of the square had begun to bleed, a slow, rhythmic weeping of dark sap that pooled in the cracks of the cobblestones and smelled of rot and ancient earth, a smell that had no business existing in a...

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