The Wistful Saga

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2026-08-23 09:15:44 -

The Wistful Saga

The fog did not enter the house so much as it remembered being there, a thick, grey exhalation that smelled of wet limestone and old iron, pooling in the corners of the drawing room where Arthur Vane sat with his hands resting on his knees, watching the condensation form on the windowpane. He was forty years old, though he looked older, his face a map of lines etched by sleepless nights and the...

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