The Distant Legend
The oak branch above the council chamber dripped black sap onto the Magistrate’s hat, a thick, viscous stain that mirrored the rot spreading through the town’s foundations. You stood in the center of the chamber, your voice trembling not from fear but from the sheer exertion of holding back the words that would unravel everything. The Magistrate, a man whose face had long since surrendered to...
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