The Faded Bouquet
You are standing in the middle of a field that does not exist on any map, holding a bouquet of white lilies that are bleeding black sap, and you realize with a cold, sinking certainty that the war you have been fighting is not against an army of men, but against the very fabric of the world you swore to protect. The air here is thick, tasting of iron and old rain, and the sky above is a bruised...
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