The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-20 06:46:17 -

The Wistful Saga

The sword bit deep. It was not a clean cut. It tore. Miles Ashworth gasped. The pain was cold. It spread up his arm. He felt the weight of the blade. It was heavy. It was real. He was in the mud. The mud was black. It smelled of rain. It smelled of iron. He looked up. The attacker was gone. There was no attacker. There was only the fog. The fog rolled in from the valley. It was thick. It was...

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