The Wistful Incense

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 09:13:04 -

The gate was locked. I knew it was locked because I had locked it. I had the key. I had the weight of the iron in my palm, cold as the river stone, cold as the bone of my dead brother. I walked the perimeter. The stone walls were high. The moss grew thick in the cracks. It was old. It was ancient. It was mine. I am a keeper. I am a warden. I am the last of the line. The Order of the Silver...

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