The Faded Attic
The road is wet. It has been raining for three days. The mud sucks at your boots with a sound like a dying breath. You walk. You do not stop. The forest is thick. The trees are black. They watch you. You are a soldier. You are a ghost. The air is cold. It bites your skin. You feel the weight of the iron on your back. It is heavy. It is always heavy. You reach the gate. It is made of stone. It...
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