The Wistful Saga
The lake in the dream was black and did not freeze. It sat beneath the floorboards of Elias Thorne’s study, a dark, liquid eye that watched him as he woke. He was forty years old, a historian at the University of Ashworth, and the water in his mind was the only thing in his life that remained constant. He sat up in the dark, the winter air biting at his bare arms, and felt the familiar weight...
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