The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-20 09:07:07 -

The Faded Bouquet

The air in the Hall of Whispers tasted of wet stone and old copper, a metallic tang that coated the back of my throat with every shallow breath I dared to take as I stood before the Obsidian Throne. I had come here not out of ambition, nor in search of glory, but driven by a hunger so primal and bone-deep that it had long since eclipsed any rational fear of the entity that sat upon the dais, a...

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