The Wistful Mountain

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-18 03:35:20 -

The hall was a cavern of gold and shadow, lit by chandeliers that hung like frozen explosions of crystal. The air smelled of beeswax, old stone, and the sharp, metallic tang of expensive perfume. Professor Elias Thorne stood at the periphery of the banquet, his fingers tracing the rim of a crystal goblet he did not intend to drink from. He was a man of sixty, his spine bent not by age but by...

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