The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-20 02:13:48 -

The rain against the stained glass of the St. Jude’s Military Academy chapel was a rhythmic drumming, a ceaseless, grey percussion that seemed to vibrate in the very marrow of Elias Thorne’s bones. He stood before the altar, his hands clasped behind his back, watching the water bead and run down the panes of deep blue and ruby red, distorting the view of the ivy-choked courtyard below. He was...

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