The Wistful Cipher

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 15:48:42 -

The fog is coming in early. It rolls over the white stone walls of Oakhaven like a living thing, thick and wet, smelling of old iron and damp wool. I am twelve years old, and I am the scribe’s apprentice, though I have no desire to be a scribe. I only want my father back. He is in the debtors’ prison, a cell that smells of mildew and despair, and the Magistrate says he will stay there until the...

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