The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 20:22:40 -

The rain fell in sheets of grey iron, hammering against the thatched roof of the outpost, a sound like the constant, grinding chafe of millstones. Seraphina Vane stood by the window, her hand resting on the cold glass, watching the fog devour the road that led down to the valley. She was a woman of forty winters, her hair steel-grey and bound tight, her face a map of lines carved not by joy but...

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