The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-23 18:37:18 -

The feast at the Hall of Oakhaven was a cacophony of roasted boar, spiced wine, and the sharp, metallic tang of debt, yet Elara sat at the edge of the long table, her fingers tracing the cold rim of her goblet as she listened to the low, rhythmic thrumming that only she could hear, a sound that seemed to rise from the very stones of the floor and into her bones. She was thirty years old, a...

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