The Faded Chronicle

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2026-08-23 23:44:01 -

The rain hammered against the slate roof of the watchtower, a relentless, drumming hiss that filled the silence between heartbeats. It was a cold, grey dawn, the kind that seeped into the bones and refused to leave. Councillor Bram stood by the window, his back rigid, his hands resting on the cold stone sill. He watched the village below, huddled in the mist, the chimneys breathing thin veils...

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