The Faded Frontier

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 00:17:05 -

The coat hung on the hook by the door. It had always been there. I did not hang it. I did not take it off. It was wool, thick and heavy, the color of dried blood. It smelled of damp earth and old iron. I was a guard. My job was to watch the gate. The gate was stone. The stone was old. The village slept beyond the gate. The village was safe. Or so I told myself. The cold bit at my hands. I...

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