The Distant Joke
The iron keys were heavy, heavier than a man’s life should have to be, and they hung from my belt like a pendulum marking out the slow, dull ticks of a prison I could not escape. I am Thomas, the keeper of the Gate of Whispers, and I have held this weight for forty years. The air in the Great Hall of King Aldric’s castle tasted of wet stone and old blood, a flavor that had seeped into my very...
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