The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-22 18:38:26 -

"It is not for you, boy. Do not touch it." Elias Thorne’s voice was a dry rasp, the sound of gravel shifting under a boot. He did not look up from the ledger. The ink was still wet on the line for *Saffron, Grade B, 12 oz*. The shop smelled of dust and old paper, a scent that had settled into the pores of his skin over twenty years. Outside, the bells of Oakhaven tolled the hour, a dull,...

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