The Wistful Mountain

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2026-08-22 11:56:14 -

The silver locket hung heavy against Elias’s chest, its clasp digging into the wool of his coat as he shoved open the oak doors of the Magistrate’s office. The air inside was stale, thick with the scent of dried lavender and old paper, and the light from the single gas lamp above the desk cast long, trembling shadows across the floor. Elias did not look at the clerk, who was stamping a form...

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