The Wistful Skyline
"You have to burn it, Thomas. Do you hear me? You have to burn the letter before the sun touches the tower." Margaret’s voice was not loud, but it cut through the heavy, stagnant air of the cellar with the sharpness of a blade forged in a forgotten smithy. She stood in the shadows, her hands trembling not with fear, but with a kind of violent, primal urgency that seemed to warp the light around...
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