The Wistful Mountain
The glass did not break because it was struck, but because it was held too tightly by hands that had forgotten how to let go, a subtle fracture running through the center of the vessel like a vein of dark water pulsing beneath the skin of the earth. Elara stood in the center of the High Table, the surface of which was not wood but a polished slab of obsidian so dark it seemed to drink the light...
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