The Distant Nightmare
The rain had been falling for three days, a steady, gray curtain that turned the cobblestones of the estate into slick, black mirrors. You sat in the corner of the library, your back against the heavy oak shelving, your hands resting on the hilt of the sword that lay across your knees. It was an old thing, a relic from a war that the official histories had tried to erase. The metal was pitted,...
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