The Distant Joke

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2026-08-24 20:37:57 -

The Distant Joke

The iron key was cold in your palm, its teeth worn smooth by a decade of turning locks that did not open. You held it tight, the metal biting into the calluses of your thumb, as you stood before the massive oak doors of the Iron Court. Inside, the air smelled of stale wax and old blood. You were Kaelen, thirty-two, a knight who had bled for a crown that now demanded your soul in exchange for...

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