The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-22 13:04:36 -

The Wistful Petal

The mud in the northern pass was cold enough to sting the exposed skin of Elias’s shins. He stood with his back against the wet rock, his sword snapped in two, the broken pieces lying uselessly in the slush at his feet. He was thirty-two years old, and his lungs burned with a rattle that had nothing to do with the cold. Across the narrow defile, the enemy captain waited, his rifle loose in his...

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