The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 09:21:33 -

The rain had not stopped for three days, and the cobblestones of Oakhaven were slick with a grime that smelled of iron and rot. You stood on the porch of the manor, your hands shaking not from the cold but from the tightness of your own shadow, which had begun to coil around your ankles like a constrictor. Lord Vane’s steward, a man whose face was as pale as the wet stone, opened the door with...

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