The Wistful Mountain
The tower stood in the center of the courtyard. It was stone. It was old. "Does it move?" asked Elias. He stood in the shadow of the archway. His hand trembled. He looked at the structure. He looked at his father, Lord Ashworth. The old man did not look back. "It is a monument," the old man said. His voice was dry. Like dust on a shelf. "It is the heart of the house. It stays." Elias wanted to...
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