The Distant Wound

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2026-08-19 20:01:08 -

The Distant Wound

The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a grey curtain of suspended grief over the High Court of Aethelgard. I stood alone in the antechamber, the stone floor cold against the soles of my boots, listening to the drip of water from the vaulted ceiling into the iron basin below. It was a sound like time itself eroding, grain by grain. I was the Archivist, a title that carried the weight of...

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