The Wistful Voyage

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2026-08-17 22:34:22 -

The ink was dry on the parchment before the quill hit the desk. I watched the black blot spread. It looked like a bruise. Like a wound that would not close. Outside, the wind tore at the shutters of my study. The castle stood on the cliff, indifferent to the storm. It had stood for three hundred years. It would stand for three hundred more. "Master Aldric." I did not turn. I knew the voice. It...

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