The Faded Alibi

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2026-08-22 15:04:10 -

The Faded Alibi

The rain on the slate roof of the garrison sounded like the ticking of a clock that had broken centuries ago. I sat by the hearth, the iron grate glowing a dull, angry red, and held the small clay bowl in my hands. It was warm. It was heavy. It was the only thing in this stone prison that did not feel like a tool of war. Inside, a thick, grey porridge simmered, smelling of roasted barley and...

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