The Faded Quadrant

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2026-08-22 19:24:29 -

The mist did not enter the throne room of Aethelgard like weather, but like a wound opening in the air, carrying a scent of wet earth and old iron that clung to the back of Elias Thorne’s throat. He stood before the dais, his hands locked behind his back, the leather of his gaunts creaking as he shifted his weight, while the court held its breath in a silence so heavy it felt physical, a...

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