The Seven Fallen Heirs

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2026-06-04 19:49:58 -

I. The letter arrived on a Tuesday, wrapped in wax the colour of dried blood. Arthur Blackwood broke the seal with fingers that trembled more than they should have for a man of twenty-eight. He had spent the morning walking the corridors of Blackwood Manor, listening to the house breathe around him—the settling of ancient timbers, the whisper of draughts through cracked window-panes, the faint,...

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