The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 20:16:05 -

The mist clung to the valley floor like a shroud, thick and white, erasing the boundary between the earth and the sky. You stood at the edge of the village of Oakhaven, your hand resting on the hilt of a sword that had never known blood, only the cold damp of the morning air. Behind you, the village slept under a silence that felt heavy, almost suffocating, a silence born not of peace, but of a...

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