The Distant Wound

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2026-08-19 16:21:33 -

The Distant Wound

The blade was still in my shoulder when they dragged me through the gates, the iron cold against the hot, wet meat of my deltoid, a jagged reminder of the violence that had just occurred in the courtyard of the High Council. I did not scream. I had learned, in the long, gray years of my service to the Ministry of Order, that pain is a language the body speaks when the mind is too full to...

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