The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-21 21:18:50 -

The Wistful Petal

The ledger is open on the desk, the ink still wet, smelling of iron and regret. You are holding the quill, but you are not writing. You are listening to the silence in the guild hall, a silence that has teeth. The candle burns low, casting long, shivering shadows against the stone walls, and in that darkness, you see the face of your apprentice, Thomas, not as he is now, pale and trembling in...

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