The Wistful Letter

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 03:17:18 -

The rain did not fall so much as it settled, a grey, clinging fog that swallowed the stone walls of Blackwood Keep. I stood at the threshold, my hand resting on the hilt of a sword I had not drawn in three years, watching the last of my men file through the archway into the mud. They were not soldiers in the way the lords of the High Court understood them; they were men of the soil, of the...

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