The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 21:30:33 -

The fog in the Highlands did not lift; it thickened, a grey woolen cloth pressed against the face of the world. Elias Thorne stood knee-deep in the black mire of the moor, the cold seeping through his boots and into the marrow of his bones. He clutched a small glass vial to his chest, the black sap inside swirling like oil in water. He was forty years old, though he felt older, eroded by the...

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