The Wistful Mountain

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2026-08-22 12:35:43 -

The hall smelled of roasted lamb and old blood. Sir Cedric stood by the hearth. He held his sword. The blade was dull. He did not care. The fire popped. Sparks flew. They died in the dark. The King sat high. The throne was gold. It looked like a cage. The King’s face was pale. His eyes were hard. He looked at Cedric. He looked through him. "You have brought a thief," the King said. Cedric...

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