The Distant Wound

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2026-08-23 07:53:20 -

The Distant Wound

The vial held forty drops. Silas counted them by the tremor in his own hand, each bead of amber liquid catching the violet glow that pulsed from his chest like a second, sickly heart. Fourteen had been drunk in the last hour. Twenty-six remained. Outside the stone walls of the Citadel infirmary, the rain hammered against the shutters, a relentless, muddy drumming that matched the rhythm of the...

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