The Wistful Atlas

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2026-08-18 20:39:25 -

The Wistful Atlas

The banquet hall of the Whitmore Estate was a cathedral of cold light, the chandeliers dripping with crystals that seemed to hold the winter night in suspension, each facet a tiny, frozen star reflecting the faces of those who had gathered to watch the old guard crumble. I stood at the periphery, a shadow among the silhouettes of silk and velvet, my hands clasped so tightly that the bones of my...

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