The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 17:35:41 -

The frost came early that year, biting through the wool of the uniform and settling into the marrow of Sergeant Elias Thorne. He stood at the edge of the quarry, the air thick with the smell of wet iron and decaying leaves. The town of Oakhaven lay below him, a patchwork of slate roofs and smoking chimneys, but the cold did not care for the warmth of hearths. It cared only for the end. Elias...

0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews