The Distant Nightmare

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 00:58:01 -

The mortar was dry, and the wall was lying. I stood before the Great Hall of Aethelgard, my hands slick with the dust of its foundation. The stone did not feel like stone. It felt like bone. Cold, porous, and waiting to break. I had built this place with my own hands, brick by brick, for forty years. I was a mason in a town where magic was a tax, not a gift. We paid our tithes in silence. We...

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