The Distant Journey

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2026-08-19 17:17:40 -

The ink is already dry on the seal, and I can feel the weight of it sitting in my pocket like a cold stone, a heavy, leaden thing that pulls at my waistband and reminds me, with every step I take down the cobblestone lane, that I am no longer the man who walked up this hill in the spring, not the man who swore oaths to the Crown and to the King, but something else, something broken and hollowed...

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