The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-20 15:17:36 -

The Wistful Saga

The table groaned under the weight of the feast. Candles dripped. Wax pooled on the linen. We ate. We spoke. The air was thick. It smelled of roast duck and old stone. I looked at Elias. His hands were still. Too still. I watched his left palm. The skin was thin. Veins bulged. Blue lines under the surface. He did not eat. He just held the knife. The metal caught the light. A cold flash. A...

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