The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-21 09:14:47 -

The Wistful Saga

The rain did not fall. It hung, suspended in the air like a fine, metallic mist, coating the slate roofs of Ashwood in a layer of grey dust. Silas Vane stood on the porch, his hand resting on the hilt of his service pistol. He did not draw it. He did not need to. The weapon was a cold weight against his thigh, a familiar anchor in the shifting sands of the town’s collective delusion. He was the...

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