The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 04:15:08 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a gray veil stretching from the jagged peaks of the Caledonian highlands to the mud of the courtyard below. Sir Julian Thorne stood alone in the keep’s highest chamber, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and old blood. He was a man carved from the same rough granite as the fortress itself, his face a map of scars earned in service to a Crown...

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