The Wistful Mountain

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2026-08-23 10:44:49 -

The smell of stale tobacco and wet wool hung heavy in the antechamber, a thick gray fog that clung to the curtains and settled in the creases of Elias’s tunic. He stood before the desk, his hands clasped behind his back, feeling the rough grain of the wood through his fingertips as Lord Vane’s shadow stretched across the floorboards, long and distorted by the dying afternoon light. "You...

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