The Wistful Throne

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2026-08-20 07:10:05 -

The ink on the ledger was dry, cold, and black as a raven’s wing, yet it seemed to bleed into the grain of the oak table, a stain that had been growing larger in the mind of Elias Thorne for the better part of a decade, a slow hemorrhage of identity that he had tried to stop with the sheer force of will and the rigid structure of his accounting, a man who believed that if he could just balance...

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