The Distant Joke

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2026-08-23 01:59:01 -

The Distant Joke

The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray weeping that seeped through the stone walls of the keep and settled into the marrow of Sir Aldous Thorne’s bones. He stood alone in the damp tower, the silence broken only by the rhythmic dripping from the ceiling and the faint, insistent hum of the silver circlet in his hand. The band, tarnished by decades of wear and the sweat of his...

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