The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-20 16:42:16 -

I woke with the taste of iron and wet earth on my tongue, the kind of metallic tang that lingers after a heavy blow or a long fall. The rain had stopped, but the air in the barracks was thick, heavy with the smell of damp wool and old wood. I sat up, my joints popping, and looked at the empty bunk beside mine. It had been cold for three days. Not just the mattress, but the space where Silas...

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