The Wistful Mirror
The rain had not stopped for nine days, turning the cobblestones of the lower town into a slick, black mirror that reflected the weeping sky in fractured shards, and it was in this damp, pervasive gloom that Aldous Vane, a scholar of such modest means that his robes were held together by thread and prayer, sat in the cramped upper room of the tavern called The Broken Oar, watching a single drop...
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