The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-22 21:30:59 -

The rain in Blackwood Keep did not fall; it hung, a cold, viscous mist that seeped into the stone and the bone alike. Elias Thorne stood in the courtyard, his sergeant’s tunic soaked through, clutching a rusted iron key that felt heavier than lead. He was thirty-two years old, and he had been standing here for what felt like a decade, though the calendar on the wall inside the keep had stopped...

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