The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 04:24:08 -

The chanting started before the sun had cleared the ridge, a low, rhythmic thrumming that vibrated in the fillings of my teeth. Thomas Bradshaw stood at the center of the square, his face a mask of pale, rigid fury, and the village of Oakhaven swayed in unison, their voices rising to a pitch that tore at the fog. I stood in the center of the circle, my hands bound with rough hemp rope, watching...

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