The Wistful Saga
The wind tore at the canvas. It was a brutal, howling thing. It pressed against the sides of the old university building, testing the mortar, seeking the cracks. Inside, Dr. Elias Thorne stood by the window. He watched the ivy peel away from the brickwork. One leaf. Then another. They were dying. He had spent twenty years mapping their roots. He knew the soil composition. He knew the pH levels....
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