The Wistful Mirror

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2026-08-21 15:59:26 -

The shield is cracked. It is a thin, jagged line running from the rim to the boss, like a vein of dried blood. I hold it up to the moonlight. The metal is cold. It is heavier than it was yesterday. It is heavier than it was last year. I am Thomas. I am a prisoner. Or so they say. The walls of this place are not stone. They are mist. They are the grey, breathing fog that rolls in from the sea...

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