The Wistful Mirror

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-20 12:13:43 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a cold and suspended veil that turned the ancient heath into a place of gray silence. I stood alone at the edge of the marsh, my hand resting on the pommel of my sword, the metal cold against my palm. The leather of my gauntlet had long since cracked, worn thin by years of grip and sweat, and beneath that, the skin of my hand was mapped with...

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