The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-19 17:06:18 -

The Wistful Saga

The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the high windows of the Hall, a persistent, hollow rhythm that sounded like knuckles rapping on a skull. Elias sat in his chair. He did not move. His hands were still on the armrests. They were white. They were still. The air in the room was thick. It smelled of wet wool and old paper. There was a coldness that seeped through the...

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