The Wistful Crossroads

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 00:37:03 -

The wind did not blow so much as it remembered, dragging the scent of wet stone and ancient rot through the high, vaulted chambers of the Citadel. I sat alone in the antechamber, the silence pressing against my eardrums like deep water, and watched the dust motes dance in the single shaft of pale light that pierced the gloom from the narrow slit window. I was a soldier, or so the men called me,...

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