The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 12:16:09 -

The gate of the Ironwood Keep did not open; it breathed, a slow, rusted exhalation that smelled of wet iron and old blood, and I stood before it with my hands empty, my pockets light, my spirit heavy with the specific, crushing weight of a man who has been told he is less than dirt, less than the mud that slicked the cobblestones of the lower town where the beggars slept in the shade of the...

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