The Wistful Incense
The torch was already wet, the flame sputtering against the damp wood of the wisteria branch I held, the heat biting my palms as I tried to steady the light against the wind. I am Elias, forty-two, a captain in the King’s Guard, and I want to burn the old chapel’s wisteria before the winter solstice to clear the courtyard for the new barracks; the opposing force is my own reflection in the...
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