The Distant Blade

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2026-08-20 18:16:06 -

The Distant Blade

The blade sings. It is a high, thin note, sharp as a winter wind. You swing. The air parts. You are in the yard. The stones are wet. You are not a man. You are a hand. You are a shoulder. You are the weight of the steel. The man before you raises his arms. He is small. He wears the grey of the order. He does not strike back. He only holds his ground. You lunge. The steel meets the shield....

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