The Distant Legend

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2026-08-22 01:43:35 -

The iron bars of the window were slick with rain, and my hands were slick with blood that was not mine. I held the crowbar with the grip of a man who has forgotten how to pray, the metal biting into the calluses of my palm, while outside the storm raged against the stone face of the priory like a beast demanding entry. Inside, the air smelled of wet wool, old incense, and the metallic tang of...

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