The Faded Frontier

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 21:54:08 -

The fog did not roll in so much as it leaked from the stones of Oakhaven, a cold, wet exhalation that smelled of wet ash and old blood. I stood at the watchtower’s edge, my left hand wrapped in linen that had long since turned the color of bruised plum, the fabric stiff with the secret work of the Rot. Fifty-two years old, I thought, and my body was already a ruin I had to walk through. I...

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