The Wistful Crossroads

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2026-08-22 13:42:50 -

The silence in the Hall of Echoes was not empty; it was a weight, a physical thing pressing against the inside of Elias’s skull. He stood before the High Warden, a man whose face was a mask of polished stone, and waited for a word that would not come. The air tasted of iron and old paper, the scent of the trees bleeding ink outside. Elias’s hands were trembling, not from fear, but from the...

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