The Faded Quadrant

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2026-08-22 04:44:15 -

The air in the Grand Hall of the Palace of Whispers was thick with the scent of roasted sage and old parchment, a cloying aroma that seemed to settle into the pores of my skin, trapping me in a suffocating embrace of tradition and decay, as I stood before the High Tribunal with my hands bound by silk ribbons that felt less like restraints and more like the tendons of a puppeteer who had long...

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