The Wistful Throne

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-18 03:35:50 -

The fog rolled in off the harbor, thick as wool, swallowing the rusted ribs of the dry docks. Elias sat on the edge of the pier, his boots dangling over the black water. He was waiting for no one. He was waiting for nothing. The air smelled of brine and old iron, a scent that had settled into his skin over the last decade. He was a man who had crossed an ocean to escape a country that no longer...

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