The Distant Nightmare

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 08:11:41 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a thick gray veil that smelled of wet stone and old iron, pressing against the high windows of the keep until the glass groaned under the weight of the sky. Thomas Bradshaw stood by the hearth, his hands resting on the hilt of a sword that had seen three winters and two sieges, watching the flames die down to a sullen orange pulse. He was a...

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