The Wistful Letter

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 09:41:35 -

Aldric. The name hung in the air, heavy and wet, like a shroud pulled from the damp earth. Sir Aldric of the Blackwood Guard woke with the taste of copper in his mouth. The candle on the nightstand had burned low, the wick black and charred, casting long, jagged shadows against the stone wall. He did not move. He lay still, counting the beats of his heart, waiting for the cold touch of the...

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