The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-21 13:56:10 -

The wind cuts through the wool of your coat. It is a cold that does not stop at the skin. It goes deeper. It finds the gaps in your armor. You are walking. You have been walking for three days. The road is a ribbon of grey mud. It stretches into the fog. You are alone. Or so you think. You are a scholar. You carry books. They are heavy. The leather creaks. You are going to the monastery. You...

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