The Wistful Letter

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 10:21:59 -

The rain lashed the iron gates. Silas stood in the mud. His sword was out. The blade sang a low, wet note. He waited for the ghost. He had been waiting for hours. The estate loomed above him. Black stone. Tall windows. Glass like broken teeth. Inside, the light burned yellow. It was the only warmth left. Silas tightened his grip. His hands shook. Not from cold. From rage. Or maybe grief. It was...

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