The Wistful Mirror

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2026-08-22 11:24:47 -

The carriage wheels ground against the frozen mud of the cathedral forecourt, and I stepped out into the biting air of St. Jude’s, my satchel heavy with the tools of a trade that had once fed me and now merely sustained my pride. I was forty-five years old, a glassblower by the Guild’s reckoning, though my hands shook with a tremor that no amount of hot glass could soothe, and I carried the...

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