The Faded Sutra

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2026-08-19 23:45:47 -

The Faded Sutra

The feast was a riot of wax and gold, a suffocating blanket of light that pressed against your eyelids until the world outside the banquet hall ceased to exist. You sat at the far end of the long table, your hands folded in your lap, feeling the heavy, damp weight of the air against your skin. The air smelled of roasted boar, stale wine, and the cloying sweetness of lilies that had been cut too...

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