The Distant Nightmare

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 02:07:17 -

The rain in Aethelgard does not fall; it hangs, a perpetual grey mist that seeps into the marrow and rots the lungs. You are Marcus, a thirty-two-year-old guard of the lower docks, and you have spent the last five years watching the sensation drain from your left hand. It is a numb, useless thing now, a dead weight that you hide in your tunic, but you have learned to live with the absence. You...

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