The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 05:55:18 -

The fog rolled off the moor like a living thing, thick and grey, swallowing the lanterns of the village below. Elias Thorne stood on the ridge, his boots sinking into the wet heather, clutching the leather satchel to his chest. Inside lay the mirror. It was not a large thing, no grander than a hand, framed in tarnished brass that felt warm to the touch, even in the cold damp air. It was the...

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