The Wistful Mountain

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2026-08-19 15:38:36 -

The air tasted of copper and wet stone as I climbed the spiral ramp of the lighthouse, the wind screaming outside like a living thing trying to tear the glass from its frame, and I held the brass compass tight against my chest, its cold weight a promise I was terrified I would break. My name is Elias Thorne, though here, in this place where the map ends and the water begins, names are just...

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