The Wistful Throne

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 10:18:32 -

The iron was cold. It bit into the palm, a dull ache that spread up the wrist and settled in the bone. I held it tight. The other men were gone. They had fled into the white fog that swallowed the valley floor, their boots crunching against the frost, the sound of their retreat a rhythmic, mocking drumbeat. I did not run. I stood on the ridge, the metal bar in my hand, watching the mist rise...

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