The Distant Nightmare

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2026-08-22 09:21:20 -

The bread was stale. It had been for days, hard as the stone floor beneath my boots, but I ate it anyway. Hunger is a simple master. It does not ask for your soul, only your silence. I chewed the dry crust, swallowing the dust of the corridor. The air in the palace smelled of wet wool and old blood. We were in the lower halls, far from the light of the great hall where the King sat. We were the...

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