The Wistful Crossroads

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2026-08-19 11:55:26 -

The mud is cold, a black slurry that clings to your boots like the residue of a bad dream. You are bleeding from a gash above your left eye, the blood mixing with the rain to form a warm, sticky veil over your vision. Your sword, a long, slender blade of dark steel, is stuck in the earth three paces ahead of you. You left it there. You left it there because your hands were shaking too violently...

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