The Wistful Mirror

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2026-08-18 16:41:28 -

The dream began not with a sound, but with a weight, a heavy, cold pressure against the chest that felt suspiciously like the silk lining of a mourning veil. Elias Vane stood in a corridor that stretched into an infinite, grey fog, the floor beneath his feet polished to a mirror sheen that reflected his own pale, anxious face. He was holding a shard of glass. It was not a large piece, merely a...

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