The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-20 07:58:11 -

The rain had not stopped for three days. It fell on the stone ramparts of the Citadel, a steady, gray sheet that blurred the line between the sky and the earth. Elias Vance stood by the window, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword he had not drawn in years. The metal was cold. The air in the room was thick with the smell of wet wool and old paper. He was the Warden, a title that sounded...

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