The Wistful Cipher

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2026-08-20 06:01:38 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a fine, grey mist that clung to the cobblestones of the courtyard and seeped into the marrow of my bones. I stood at the edge of the well, the stone lip slick beneath my gloved fingers, waiting for the echo to return. It was the third time that day I had lowered the bucket, and the third time the rope had snapped. Not broken. Snapped. As if the wood...

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