The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-22 00:19:18 -

The Wistful Saga

The rain hit the windows of the grand hall in long, gray sheets. It was a storm. Heavy. Cold. The water ran down the glass in thick, twisting rivers. It looked like tears. It looked like blood. I stood in the corner. I held a glass of wine. I did not drink it. The wine was dark. Red. It smelled of iron. The room was full of people. They laughed. They clinked their glasses. The sound was sharp....

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