The Wistful Mirror
The rain lashed against the high, arched windows of the Grand Hall of St. Jude’s, a rhythmic, relentless drumming that seemed to vibrate through the very stone floor beneath Elias’s feet, blurring the line between the interior sanctuary and the howling storm outside, where the ancient oak trees bent low as if in prayer or perhaps in defeat. Elias stood before the polished bronze mirror, a relic...
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