The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-23 08:37:31 -

The inkwell sat in my palm, cold and heavy, its surface cracked like dried riverbeds. I held it up to the sliver of grey light cutting through the high window, watching the black fluid cling to the rim, refusing to flow. It was the only ink left in the castle, and it was not mine. Kael stood behind me, his back to the door, his hand resting on the pommel of a sword that looked too large for his...

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