The Wistful Crossroads

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2026-08-19 17:08:17 -

I woke in the violet half-light of the cellar, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and the metallic tang of old blood, a sensation that was not entirely memory but something more akin to a physical presence clinging to my skin like wet wool. I am not a man, though I have worn the skin of one for forty years, and I am not a beast, though my shadow stretches long and jagged across the...

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