The Wistful Crossroads

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2026-08-19 09:07:10 -

The rain in the capital did not fall so much as it hovered, a fine, persistent mist that settled into the wool of coats and the creases of faces. Elias stood in the anteroom of the Grand Hall, his fingers wrapped tightly around a small, velvet-lined box. The box was old, its leather casing cracked and worn smooth by years of handling, yet the object inside remained pristine, untouched by the...

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