The Walls have stood longer than memory. No one knows who built them, or what waits beyond. Inside, the kingdoms choke on sermons and politics, each one rotting behind its own masks. That's where I work. Not with swords or crowns, but with silence. I was nameless once. Now I trade in whispers-listening for what shouldn't be heard, carrying truths that kingdoms would rather bury. But silence breaks. Kings grow restless. Priests call for blood. Factions tighten their grip until something snaps. And when it does, it won't be what lies beyond the Walls that destroys us. It'll be what's been here all along.
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