The Distant Promise

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2026-08-20 06:44:32 -

The iron key in my pocket has grown cold against my thigh, a small, heavy weight that feels less like a tool of access and more like a tooth pulled from a jaw, leaving a hollow ache that pulses with every beat of my heart. I have carried this key for three years, since the day I was appointed the Archivist of the Lower Vaults at the Blackwood Institute, a sprawling, decaying edifice of stone...

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