The Wistful Saga

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 14:52:21 -

The Wistful Saga

The black river again. It did not flow; it churned, a thick sludge of ink and silt, rising to the height of my waist before swallowing me whole. I woke gasping, the sweat cold on my brow, the smell of damp wool and old parchment clinging to the sheets. Outside, the grey light of Oakhaven’s morning crept through the shutters, dull and indifferent. I am Elias Thorne, thirty-four years old, and I...

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