The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-21 11:14:19 -

The rain against the leaded glass of the keep did not sound like water. It sounded like time being ground down to dust. You sat in the high chair, the one carved from a single block of oak, and your hands rested on the armrests, still steady, still calm. They were the hands of a man who had kept order in a world that had forgotten how to be orderly. But the order you had maintained was a lie....

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