The Wistful Incense

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 14:48:00 -

The light was failing, turning the snow outside the window into a dull, gray bruise, when Silas called my name from the courtyard. "Elias." It was not a question, nor a greeting. It was a summons, sharp as a whip crack, cutting through the low hum of the wind that had been pressing against the Iron Gate for three days. I was sitting at my desk, the ink in my well nearly dry, the resignation...

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