The Distant Nightmare

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2026-08-20 00:38:23 -

The castle was not a home; it was a mechanism. It sat upon the black basalt cliffs of the coast, a jagged tooth of grey stone grinding against the churning grey of the Atlantic. I had come to be its ghost, a scribe in the service of Lord Ashworth, a man who spoke little and demanded much. The air inside the high walls tasted of damp rot and old iron, a flavor that had seeped into my lungs over...

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