The Distant Wound

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2026-08-22 05:37:52 -

The Distant Wound

The river ran black and still. It did not move. It sat in the valley like a pool of ink spilled by a careless god, reflecting the pale, indifferent sky. I stood on the bank. My boots were heavy. They were caked in the mud of the lower wards. I looked at the water. I looked at my reflection. It was distorted. It was a stranger. I was a man of the Order. I was a seeker. I had come to find the...

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