The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-19 07:04:24 -

The air tasted of iron and wet stone, a metallic tang that coated the back of Marcus Thorne’s throat as he drove his sword through the chest of the man who had called him a traitor. It was a clean cut, a professional finish, yet the body did not fall. Instead, it dissolved into a mist of grey ash that swirled upward, driven by a wind that had no source. Marcus stood in the center of a clearing...

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