The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-20 09:49:11 -

The sky tore open at dawn. It did not rain. It bled. A thick, crimson mist rolled down from the highlands, soaking the grass until the meadow looked like a wound that had stopped closing. Sir Caelan stood at the edge of the treeline. His armor was dented. His shield was cracked down the middle. He held his sword low. The metal hummed in his hand. A low, angry vibration. He had walked for three...

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