The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-20 03:50:43 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended gray curtain that blurred the edge of the world. Elias stood on the threshold of the old stone chapel, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword that felt less like steel and more like a bone he had pulled from his own spine. The air smelled of wet limestone and the metallic tang of ozone, a scent that had been with him since the day the...

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