The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-21 13:50:37 -

The Wistful Petal

The feast was held in the hollow of a tree that did not exist in the world I had known. It was a grand affair. Long tables of pale, translucent wood stretched into the mist. The air smelled of pine resin and old blood. I sat at the end. My hands were steady. They were always steady. That was my job. I was a soldier. Or a guard. The titles had blurred long ago. I wore a uniform of grey wool. It...

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