The Wistful Saga
The iron key hangs around your neck, cold against the sternum, a constant metallic weight that anchors you to the earth while the rest of the village drifts like smoke in the early morning mist. You are the Keeper, a title that sounds grand enough for a king but carries the weight of a grave for you, and every day you walk the same dusty path from the stone cottage at the edge of the woods to...
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