The Distant Wound

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2026-08-23 14:22:01 -

The Distant Wound

I dreamt of the mist again. It was not a fog, but a substance, thick and grey, pressing against the stone of the Iron Keep. In the dream, I saw my own reflection in the condensation on the windowpane. The face looking back was older, hollowed out by a hunger I could not name. The eyes were empty, stripped of memory, stripped of self. I woke with the taste of ozone on my tongue, sharp and...

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