The Wistful Saga
The glass shattered not with a sound, but with a silence that sucked the air out of the room. Elias Thorne stood in the center of his workshop, surrounded by the iridescent shards of a thousand-year-old mirror, each piece reflecting a different, fractured version of his own face. He did not flinch. He did not cry out. He simply watched the light bend and break, a master jeweler observing the...
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