The Wistful Mirror

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2026-08-22 12:19:22 -

The steel of the longsword bit into Elias’s palm, the cold metal slick with a mixture of rain and old sweat, a weight that felt less like a weapon and more like a sentence of death hanging from his wrist. He stood in the muddy courtyard of Blackwood Manor, the year 1342 pressing down on him with the heaviness of a wet wool cloak, his breath coming in ragged, white plumes that vanished instantly...

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