The Wistful Mountain
The bell rang for the third time, a harsh, iron clang that seemed to scrape against the back of my skull, and I looked up from the ledger to see Captain Halloway standing in the doorway of the mess hall, his face a mask of pale, taut fury. "Ashworth," he barked, his voice cutting through the low murmur of the officers’ dinner, "you are dismissed from the table. Report to the armory. Now." I set...
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