The Faded Masquerade

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 11:30:10 -

The cold in the ancestral hall was a living thing, biting at the joints of my armor and the marrow of my bones. I sat by Mara’s bedside, the iron gauntlet of my right hand resting on the linen sheet, watching the rise and fall of her chest. It was a shallow, ragged rhythm, like a bird trapped in a cage of its own ribs. The Whispering Plague had taken hold three days ago, turning her eyes into...

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