The Wistful Saga
The dream began with the sound of a bell, not a church bell, but the hollow, iron clang of a ship’s anchor dragging across a seabed of glass. Thomas stood in the center of the Hall of Mirrors, a place that had no doors and no windows, only walls that reflected not his face, but his father’s. His father, who had died of a fever in the winter of his seventh year, stood there in the blue uniform...
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