The Wistful Asylum

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2026-08-20 05:50:24 -

The bell tolled for the feast, a heavy, bronze sound that shook the dust from the rafters of the Great Hall. The air smelled of roasted venison and woodsmoke, thick and sweet, a cloying perfume that coated the back of my throat. I sat at the high table, my hands resting on the oak, still stiff with the cold of the morning patrol. The candles flickered, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed...

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