The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 20:12:57 -

The rain fell in sheets, cold and relentless, washing the cobblestones of the old market square into a slick mirror. You stood beneath the eaves of the stone archway, your cloak heavy with water, your hand resting on the hilt of your sword. The blade was cold iron, worn smooth by years of grip. You watched the crowd move like water around a rock. They were merchants, scribes, and soldiers, all...

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