The Wistful Mirror
"Look at me, Elias. Look at what you’ve become." The voice was Kael’s, flat and stripped of all inflection, the way a man speaks when he has already made up his mind and is waiting for the world to catch up. I stood in the center of the watchtower, the wind tearing at my cloak, the Mirror of Veritas clutched in my left hand. The glass was cold, colder than the stone beneath my boots, and the...
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