The Faded Sutra

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2026-08-20 15:27:07 -

The Faded Sutra

The rain fell on the thatched roof of the inn in Oakhaven with a steady, rhythmic persistence, a sound that had once soothed my dreams but now served only to underscore the hollow ache in my left arm. I sat by the dying fire, the embers casting long, trembling shadows against the rough-hewn timber walls, and watched the water bead and run down the glass of the windowpane, distorting the view of...

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