The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-19 11:06:43 -

The Pale Meridian

The bell rang at dawn, sharp and thin as a needle drawing blood. You woke with the taste of iron in your mouth, the metallic tang that always followed a nightmare, though you could never quite remember the dream itself. Only the weight. Only the hunger. You were a soldier of the Iron Guard, or so the parchment said, though you had not held a sword in three years. You held a mortar and pestle...

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