The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-23 03:28:13 -

The tally of the days was twenty, and the weight of the silver mask on Aldric’s face was exactly that of a man’s entire past, heavy and cold against the skin. He had ridden from the northern borders for three weeks, his horse a grey mare with a limp in the left hind leg, the hoofbeats a dull, rhythmic thud that matched the slow, grinding ache in his own knees. Oakhaven rose from the mist like a...

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