The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-24 16:06:50 -

Act I Hendrik Terpstra was forty-two years old and had not slept in three days. The gas meter in the corner of the staff room ticked, a dry, mechanical heartbeat that counted down the hours until the winter solstice. I was a master mason, or at least I had been, before the polder land swallowed my guild and left me with a debt and a vision. The charter for the new settlement was due by the...

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