The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 12:43:07 -

The feast was loud, a cacophony of clashing silver and sharp, hungry laughter that seemed to vibrate in the very marrow of Thomas’s bones. He sat at the far end of the long oak table, his legs dangling, unable to reach the floor. The air was thick with the smell of roasted boar, spiced wine, and the metallic tang of fear that hung over every face in the great hall. He was twelve years old,...

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