The Wistful Skyline
The rain had stopped, but the air in the library still held the weight of the storm, a heavy, wet silence that pressed against the floor-to-ceiling windows. Elias Vane sat in the high-backed leather chair, his fingers resting on the spine of a first edition of *The Faerie Queene*, the leather cracked and soft as old skin. He was a man who had built his life on the architecture of words, a...
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