The Distant Ghost

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2026-08-21 11:55:32 -

The Distant Ghost

The blade was already in your hand. Cold steel. The air smelled of iron and old rain. You stood in the center of the Grand Hall, the vaulted ceiling lost in shadow above. Your father’s voice was a memory now, sharp and distant. Trust no one but the blood. You had trusted the Court. That was the error. They came for you in threes. Then in fives. The guards wore masks of pale wood. They did not...

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