The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-20 16:16:20 -

The incense did not smoke so much as it whispered, a low, sibilant hiss that seemed to vibrate against the very marrow of my bones, a sound so intimate and so deeply woven into the architecture of the room that I could not distinguish it from my own respiration. I stood in the center of the parlor, my hands trembling slightly as I held the small, fractured piece of the obsidian mirror, its...

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