The Wistful Voyage
The glass shattered not with a single, decisive crack, but with a cascade of tiny, spiderweb fractures that raced across the surface like veins of lightning trapped in ice, a sound so quiet and sharp that it seemed to slice the air rather than break it. I stood in the center of the Great Hall of the Whitmore Estate, my hands raised as if I had thrown the stone, though my fingers were empty,...
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