The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-20 04:45:39 -

The Wistful Petal

The rain had not stopped for three days, a steady, gray weeping that turned the cobblestones of Oakhaven into slick mirrors of the low, bruised sky. I stood at the edge of the village square, my armor clinking softly with every shift of weight, the metal cold and heavy against my chest, a second skin that had grown tighter with each passing year of service. Beside me, leaning against the...

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