The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-20 00:35:15 -

The rain had not ceased for nine days, a persistent, grey curtain that wept against the high, arched windows of the keep, blurring the world outside into a smear of mud and dying leaves, and in this suffocating silence, I stood before the iron-bound chest that held the only thing in this wretched, superstitious valley that I had truly loved, the heavy velvet cloak of my wife, Elara, which I had...

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