The Wistful Letter
The seal is broken. You stare at the wax. It is red. It is cold. The room is dark. Rain hits the stone. You are the Warden. You hold the knife. Your hand shakes. Not from fear. From cold. The castle breathes around you. Old stone. Old rot. The letter is thin. One sheet. Parchment. Yellowed. The ink is black. It looks like blood dried on stone. You do not read it yet. You fold it back. You put...
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