The Wistful Voyage

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 07:37:19 -

The gate was iron, blackened by decades of soot and rain, and Elias stood before it with his hand on the cold latch. He was forty years old, a scribe who had once held the quill for the Duke’s highest commands, now reduced to a hollow-eyed exile coughing into a rag. The sound was dry, a metallic rattle that seemed to come from the bones of his chest rather than his lungs. He did not look back...

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