The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 13:37:14 -

The dream was not of darkness, but of ink. It spilled from the ceiling of the manor house, a black tide that smelled of iron and old parchment. It pooled on the floorboards, slick and cold. In the center of this dark lake stood a mirror. It was tall, framed in tarnished silver, and it did not reflect the room. It reflected the void. Sir Elias Thorne woke with the taste of copper on his tongue....

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